Anniversaries
by Red Chucks
Summary: Secrets and mystery and confusion, that was Vince. Howard had just never really appreciated how deep that went. Vince had never realised that Howard would be that good in bed, or that he'd want more than to be friends with benefits... and yet... (I don't know where this came from or where it's going! But it's a grown up story. Not so much romance and sweetness here.)
1. Chapter 1

**I really don't know where this is going, or where it came from, but it well and truly deserves it's grown-ups only rating.**

* * *

Somehow, when he'd pictured it (and he had pictured it) he'd imagined their anniversary differently. He'd kind of imagined romance and a restaurant, declarations of love and badly written cream poetry, but then, in his head, they'd both known it was an anniversary. Instead he was here, in the dingy pub down the road from their flat, downing drinks so fast Howard had to have noticed there was something wrong. He hoped Howard had noticed, because then he might ask what the problem was and Vince could tell him.

"You right, Vince?"

There it was. He knew he could rely on Howard. Good old Howard.

"Well, actually, Howard-"

He looked up and shut his mouth quickly. Howard was standing and holding his empty glass. He was obviously heading back to the bar and had been asking Vince about his own half-drunk pint. Vince picked it up, downed it in one and handed the glass shakily to his mate. Stupid, he thought. So stupid. Of course Howard didn't think there was anything wrong. Vince had drunk enough for both them but Howard hadn't exactly stayed sober. This was how it went now and most of it was Vince's fault, he thought morosely. Well, half of it anyway. It took two people to... you know.

He tried not to check Howard out as he walked to the bar, tried not think about how the night would end, because depressed and horny was not a look Vince Noir wore well. Instead he looked down at his hands and the invisible patterns they were aimlessly sketching onto the table. He needed to do something about all this, he decided. When Howard got back he'd-

"Mind my pint for me, Vince? I've got to pay a visit to the little boys room."

Vince looked up, blinking.

"Sure, Howard."

He sculled his drink so he wasn't tempted to watch Howard's arse wiggle as he walked and then, letting out a hiccup that was most definitely not a sob, he let himself think back to how this whole sorry mess had started. He was allowed that indulgence surely. It was his anniversary after all.

* * *

_"So..." Vince had said as casually as he could manage, aware that Howard was on the verge of what could be either a bout of self-pitying, self-harming depression or possibly a violent tantrum._

_"...Other than the whole crab thing - which we won't mention again," he added in a rush as Howard turned to him, mouth open and face already red. "Other than that, how was Denmark?"_

_"Cold," Howard replied sourly. He took the proffered beer from Vince with a grunt and stared at the muted MTV. _

_Vince sighed and plunked himself down on the couch with the rest of the six pack. There was no point leaving them in the kitchen, not tonight. He pulled a bottle free for himself and took a gulp, trying not to cough at the taste. Howard had wanted beer and so beer they were having. Let it never be said that he wasn't willing to go to great lengths for his best mate. _

_They sat in silence for ages and Vince wondered if watching music videos with the sound off was a metaphor for something. Even if it was he would be too dumb to understand it, he thought, finishing his beer with a grimace. He turned to take another and realised that Howard was already three bottles deep and starting on his fourth. _

_"Oi, Howard, slow down."_

_"What's the point?" Howard had slurred at him. "I mean, what's the frickin' point? Hmm? It's what you do, isn't it? You go out and you get drunk and you meet someone, anyone, and, and, and... you have... fun... don't you. Yes."_

_"Well, sometimes," Vince began but Howard cut him off with a laugh that sounded a lot like a cackle. _

_"I bet you were out every night having... fun, while I was away, weren't you, Vince?"_

_Vince frowned. Something was wrong and he really didn't like where this was going. 'Fun' was not something they usually discussed with one another, or at all._

_"Not really, Howard, I-" but Howard cut him short again._

_"I went to Holland as well, you know."_

_"Oh, dear."_

_"I went to Amsterdam, you know."_

_"Ooh, dear. Here we go."_

_"I went to the green light, no, yellow light, no! red light district there. I did."_

_"Did you really?"_

_"I did. And I went to one of those doors, next to the windows, and, and I..."_

_Howard took another long swig of his beer and Vince cracked open the last bottle and did likewise. He really didn't want to hear this story but if he had to sit here and listen to Howard's drunken confessions then he sure as hell didn't want to do it sober. _

_"I went in and I started to take off my, my things, my clothes, and then she said... D'you know what she said? She said, 'Actually I'm suddenly feeling very tired. So sorry. Could you show yourself out?'"_

_"Shit."_

_"I couldn't even, couldn't even pay someone to have ssss-" he faltered and Vince took the opportunity to drink more of his beer. This was definitely going to require more alcohol. __"... to have - fun - with me," Howard rambled on. "I' m gonna die a virgin, Vince."_

_"No you won't," Vince grinned awkwardly. He went to take another drink, realised the bottle was empty and sprinted to the kitchen. __"But I reckon this calls for something stronger than beer, don't you?"_

_He dug out two shot glasses and a half-full bottle of tequila before making his way back to the couch. Howard was watching him with an intensity that made him nervous and when the bigger man slid over so that Vince was wedged in with no escape he really wished they had a bigger couch. _

_"You know, Vince," Howard spoke, too close to his ear. "You... you're right. I don't have to die a virgin."_

_He watched as Howard poured out two shots of tequila but sat motionless when Howard handed him one and then swallowed his own. He felt almost like he was having an out-of-body experience, all numb and removed. Howard picked his hand up and guided the shot glass to his lips, helping him drink it. Then he refilled the glasses. _

_"I know you swing both ways."_

_That comment snapped Vince out of it a bit. He swallowed his second shot quickly and tried not to blush._

_"What?" he spluttered. "Who told you that?"_

_Howard shrugged cockily and filled their glasses a third time, at a leisurely pace, tipping the drink down Vince's willing throat, before replying._

_"Your brain cell, actually."_

_"Can you stop talking like I only have one brain cell," Vince said hazily. "I am not _that_ stupid."_

_"He said, that you, him, you swing both ways but you weren't feeling it with me."_

_"Yeah, well," Vince was genuinely starting to panic now. Howard was refilling the shot glasses and he tried to remember how many he'd already had but now Howard was leaning into his space so that he could feel the soft but strong torso pressed up against him. He couldn't focus properly when Howard was this close. _

_Howard held the glass up to his trembling lip and looked into his eyes and suddenly Vince felt so lost._

_"I don't need you to 'feel it' with me, Vince. I don't need you to love me or rubbish like that. I don't even think I'm bisexual or anything. No. I just need you to let me fuck you."_

_The glass pressed more firmly against his lip and Vince shut his eyes and drank. What else could he do?_

_..._

_Howard had been, if not gentle, at least not rough, but he'd made the assumption that Vince had bottomed before. He hadn't. He'd got naked and stripped Vince like he was ripping the wrapper off a bounty bar before swooping in to suck on a nipple and palm his cock. At that point Vince had decided to do what ever Howard wanted and had let himself be led to his bed and all but thrown on to the covers. Howard had flipped him onto his stomach and climbed on top of him, leaving wet bite marks down Vince's back until his hands discovered his best friend's round arse cheeks and gave them a squeeze. _

_The first few attempts by probing fingers had made Vince tense up but then he'd felt the scratch of stubble against his skin and the hot, wet wriggle of Howard's tongue, and something in his brain had snapped. Howard was rimming him, had his actual tongue in Vince's actual arse, and all Vince could do was push up into it and moan for more. _

_Howard was moaning too and Vince could hear the shlap, shlap, shlap as he worked his cock somewhere behind him. His tongue thrust in and out like a powerful eel, on and on, until Vince could barely think._

_When Howard finally removed his tongue Vince tried to catch his breath but Howard hadn't moved far. He'd snatched up a pot of Vince's face cream from the bedside table and within moments Vince, still face down in the pillow, felt slippery fingers around his newly stretched hole. Howard slipped one finger inside, twisting it slowly as Vince's back arched and his legs twitched. A second finger was added quickly, too quickly for Vince, whose mind span away from him completely. There was too much sensation. He needed it to stop. He needed it to never stop. _

_He was so wound up that the stroke of Howard's fingers deep inside him nearly sent him over the edge but just as he was getting close Howard slipped his fingers almost out and began to play around his rim again, stretching his entrance, teasing. He thrust his hips back, forcing the fingers back in a little and Howard chuckled. Actually chuckled, before pulling his fingers free completely._

_Moments later Vince felt the blunt tip of Howard's cock, slick with face cream and pre-come, against his entrance. He felt a moment of anxiety before Howard began to push in but his worries stopped there. He almost didn't believe the sound that came out of his mouth as Howard entered him and the whimper that followed, as Howard began to thrust in and out frantically, was equally embarrassing. He, Vince Noir, was letting his best mate of nearly twenty years bum him silly. And he was enjoying it too. He was enjoying it a lot. _

_"Oh, fuck me, Howard," he groaned before hiding his face in embarrassment. Howard responded by biting down on the soft skin where Vince's shoulder met his neck and thrusting harder, deeper, faster. _

_Vince came with a whimper, the twin sensations of his cock rubbing against the sheets and Howard rubbing so deeply inside him triggering the most intense orgasm of his life. The clench of his muscles sent Howard over the edge too and Vince gasped at the feeling of Howard coming inside him. The whole experience had just been too weird. _

_Howard collapsed down on top of him and stayed there for several minutes before rolling off onto the bed. For a long time there was no sound but their breathing while Vince contemplated all the different ways and places he felt sticky, until Howard finally spoke._

_"Thanks Vince," he said getting to his feet and stretching. "I needed that. It was good. Good to be home."_

_And then he'd walked out of the room and closed the door. _

_Vince had wanted to go after him and figure things out. He'd wanted to get up and pace and analyse the whole thing. He'd wanted to do something, but he couldn't move. He was drunk and tired and stiff and sticky and all too soon he fell asleep._

_That had been Sunday and they'd managed to act like nothing had happened for a whole week. They'd joked and crimped and annoyed Naboo and things were going really well. Until Sunday rolled around again and Howard came home with a six pack of beer and a fresh bottle of tequila. _

_Sunday night became Bumming Night and while Vince couldn't complain about the sex - which was still mind blowing - he was far from happy. Howard thought it was great. He thought it was friends with benefits, the perfect way to get free sex without the hassle of having to talk to anyone except Vince. _

_But Vince knew, with a dreaded certainty, that over the six months they'd been going at it he'd well and truly, finally, fallen for Howard. And that Howard didn't, _couldn't_ feel the same._

* * *

Howard came back with two shot glasses of their usual tequila and Vince felt his stomach rebel. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or his emotional turmoil that was making him feel sick but he was pretty sure he couldn't stomach hard liquor tonight.

"Oh, you finished your beer," Howard smiled. "Ill get you another, shall I?"

"No, Howard, wait," Vince croaked. "Just sit down for a minute, yeah?"

Howard sat down with a shrug and pushed one of the shots toward Vince. He shook his head.

"I don't want it," he said, glaring at the drink. "I don't need it."

"Vince?" Howard asked, the cheerfulness leaving his voice and forcing Vince to look up. "Are you alright, little man?"

This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? For Howard to ask him, genuinely, if he was ok? So that he could say no? So why couldn't he say it now? He shook his head instead and Howard shuffled closer in the booth, concern obvious on his face.

"Can you tell me what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

Vince wished he could sink into the cheap leather seat and disappear but he wasn't that lucky. He shook his head again and Howard leaned over to pull him into a half hug. Vince relaxed into the touch and took a deep breath. After so many years of not being allowed to touch Howard, and Howard refusing to offer any physical comfort, the new easiness with which Howard hugged him was wonderful. It was probably also a big part of why Vince had fallen in love. The sex was fantastic but it was the hugs, occasional as they were, and the way Howard pressed himself up against Vince when they sat at home on the couch, just like he'd always wanted, that had flicked Vince's last switch. He was scared to point it out to Howard, just in case he freaked out and it all stopped again. Vince couldn't bear that, couldn't stand the thought of going back to the way they had been, but at the same time he needed... he needed...

"D'you... d'you know what's special about today, Howard?" he mumbled against Howard's shoulder.

"Well, I know it's Sunday," Howard said with leer but dropped it quickly and bundled Vince into a proper hug when the smaller man began to sob quietly.

"Hey? Hey, what is it? Vince, what's the matter? What's today? It's not your birthday, that's next week. I haven't forgotten. What's going on, little man?"

Vince hated himself for crying. He never cried, it just wasn't his thing, but he'd had far too much beer and had far too many thoughts swimming around in his headspace. Why did Howard have to be so sweet?

"It's just," he took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. "It's six months, today. Since you... got back from Denmark."

"Oh."

He could feel Howard's confusion and pulled away from the cuddle reluctantly.

"Is that," Howard took Vince's chin between his thumb and fingers and made him look at his face. "Is that why you're more dressed up than usual?"

Vince snorted. He was wearing a new shirt and his favourite boots but really, he considered this look to be stylishly dressed down. Still, at least Howard had noticed the effort.

"Yeah, Howard," he whispered, uncomfortable with the eye contact.

"Vince, are you... What do you think is going on here, Vince?"

And then Vince started to panic. It was obvious that Howard thought he was a love-sick nutter and he couldn't have this conversation in a pub. He didn't want to get chucked in public, by Howard, again.

He slid out of the booth and stumbled to his feet, clutching the table as the room started to spin. Perhaps the six beers had been a bad idea. A really bad idea. He glanced at Howard, sitting on his own and looking sexily, adorably, lovably confused, and then walked as quickly as he could manage towards the door. Howard called after him but didn't follow and once outside, Vince lit a cigarette with shaky fingers and began the short walk home, wishing he could have ignored his stupid heart and just enjoyed having his best friend back, and a fuck buddy to boot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two, quite adult. Sorry 'bout that.**

* * *

Howard was confused. He took a sip of his beer and tried to figure out what could be going on with Vince. Surely Vince didn't fancy him. Vince wasn't that kind of man, he'd told Howard so himself. Vince liked to play the field, keep things free and friendly, and Howard had worked hard to emulate that since they'd started their... arrangement. But Vince had been acting differently of late. They'd been getting along so well these last few months, joking and talking without it always descending into an argument, but as he thought back Howard realised that Vince hadn't insulted him or picked a fight since that first Sunday night. He hadn't called Howard names or made fun of his body or insulted jazz or sabotaged Stationary Village. Vince had been... nice. Oh dear.

He thought back to two weeks ago, the last time Vince had been less than his sunny self. Howard had asked him what he wanted for his birthday and Vince's answer had been... unVincelike

* * *

_"So, what d'you want, then?" Howard had asked, slightly annoyed that Vince was playing it coy._

_"I don't want anything, I told you already. I don't even like to remember when my birthday is, let alone celebrate it. It's just another reminder that I'm older than I want to be."_

_"But you must want something," Howard had pushed, opening Vince's beer for him and sliding it across the table._

_"Seriously, Howard, can you not do this?"_

_"But you must want something. You always want something. You're like a bloody magpie, always got your eye on some trinket."_

_"Gee, thanks," Vince scowled taking a deep swallow of his beer and pulling a face. "Maybe something to drink other than this rubbish? And what's with all the bird analogies? You're always calling me a magpie or a budgie or an owl. What's that all about?"_

_"Well," Howard smiled goofily. "You are a bit of a bird. Get it? Bit of a bird? 'Cos you're like a woman."_

_Vince glared and Howard tried to hide behind his moustache. He thought Vince muttered something along the lines of, "But not enough of one by half for you," but he didn't hear it properly. He was too busy drinking to cover his embarrassment at the failed joke._

_They finished their drinks in silence. _

_"Are you sure there's-"_

_"Howard!"_

_Vince looked cross now and slammed the empty bottle down onto the kitchen table. Howard wasn't sure why he was quite so upset, this had never happened before, but there was probably a good reason for that._

_"Why d'you want to get me a present anyway?" Vince growled bypassing his second beer and going straight for the spirits. "You've never bothered before? You never usually remember my birthday 'til you find me passed out on the couch the next morning. The closest thing I've gotten to a present from you in the last few years is a Resolve for me hangover. Why d'you care now?"_

_And there was the reason, Howard remembered. He hadn't ever really gotten Vince a birthday present. He'd only found out the actual date of Vince's birthday when he'd sneaked a peak at the other man's paperwork while they were working at the zoo. No wonder Vince was suspicious. _

_"Well, you got me a really good present this year and... I don't really know, to be honest."_

_Vince rolled his eyes but hadn't looked up at Howard. Instead he'd drunk shot after shot, first of tequila, then vodka then rum. Howard didn't know how Vince could drink the stuff so easily without any sort of mixer when he complained about the taste of a good, honest beer. Then again, Vince was a mystery in so many ways; even after seeing him naked, after seeing him come apart as he, well, _came_, Vince was still a mystery to Howard._

_He started on another beer, playing catch up because that was part of the way it went, an unspoken rule. They only did this after a certain amount of alcohol had been consumed and they only did it in a certain way. He hadn't ever been with anyone else and Howard wondered if this was a general rule or whether it was specific to arrangements like theirs. _

_After a while Vince pushed his chair back and stood up unsteadily. Howard looked up and frowned. Vince's eyes were red and his bottom lip was wobbling. He looked like a small child about to burst into tears, which was ridiculous because Vince didn't cry, unless it was over something stupid and trivial like Mick Jagger getting a bald patch. Vince never cried over anything real. He stood up awkwardly as Vince tried to take a step and stumbled into the table._

_"Vince, are you-"_

_"I want... I want..."_

_Vince hiccuped, sounding like a small child too, his voice a whisper, and Howard held out a hand tentatively, not actually touching but trying to show that he cared all the same. _

_"Do you know what you want for your birthday?"_

_"I want..."_

_Vince looked up into Howard's face with eyes so wide and blue that Howard's beer-addled brain wondered if maybe he could dive into them. Vince wasn't wearing any shoes, they were under the table, and Howard realised that without heeled boots on, his friend really was quite small. He tended to forget that Vince wasn't as big or as old as him. Vince always seemed so sure of himself. Except now. It was a little bit frightening._

_"I want..." Vince repeated, his voice wobbling. _

_"What?"_

_Vince suddenly seemed to recollect himself and instead of speaking he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. He left the door open and Howard watched as he peeled his jumpsuit away from his pale body. He balled up the material and threw it in the corner, and turned to fix Howard with an intense stare. Without taking his eyes from his friend Vince slipped off his small, red pants and then stood, waiting. Howard took the hint and rushed down the hallway, slamming the door behind him and pulling his clothes quickly off._

_Vince was still staring impassively and when Howard was naked he held up a hand to stop him moving forward. He walked over to his bed and lay down on his back, legs spread wide and wanton. Howard followed him to stand at the side of the mattress, taking in the sight of the other man. It was impossible not to be aroused. Vince was the Confuser and he was beautiful. And Howard had a free pass._

_"I want..." Vince said again, his voice low and husky. "I want to do it this way. Just this once."_

_..._

_It had been so intense, one of the best times of Howard's short sex life, and he could still clearly see Vince's eyes as he'd watched Howard the whole time. He'd run his hands all over Howard's chest, sides, back, arms, shoulders, neck, face as they'd fucked and the intensity of those sensations on top of the feel of his cock buried deep in Vince's heat'd had him riding the edge far too soon. _

_Vince had kept licking his lips, like he wanted to kiss, except that they never kissed, another unspoken rule. Howard had closed his eyes in the end, to concentrate on not coming so soon. His hand had felt its way down Vince's torso to his friend's throbbing length and Vince had keened when he'd wrapped his hand around it. Howard hardly ever touched Vince's cock, it never really needed doing, as far as he could recall, but the sound that Vince made when he did spurred Howard on. The smaller man's body had arched into his touch and he had kissed Howard's neck and jaw, nipping at his earlobes and sobbing with pleasure as his hands clutched convulsively at Howard's arms. _

_They'd come at the same moment. Howard had stopped breathing, unable to inhale due to the sheer immensity of the sensations in his body. Vince had gasped, short and sharp, over and over, on the edge of hyperventilating until he pulled Howard down on him and into a tight hug. Howard had let the hug happen, he was too exhausted and disorientated to do otherwise, and when he was finally able to pull away he saw that Vince had already fallen asleep. _

* * *

They hadn't talked about it but then, they never talked about anything that happened on Sunday nights. Howard wondered if maybe it was time that they did. He left the tequila untouched on the table and began to walk slowly back to the flat, stopping off on his way to pick up a bag of mini Bounty bars from the convenience store on the corner. He'd have more luck getting the truth out of Vince if he had something sweet to bribe him with.


	3. Chapter 3

**This story's scaring me a bit, because I still don't know where it's going. Plus this chapter's got a bit of horror in it. You've been warned. Thanks for reading all the same.**

* * *

Vince felt sick. The walk home had been hard, what with the deceptive ground seeming flat and yet still tripping him up. Stupid ground, always against him. He scowled as he looked up at the staircase before him. Why did they have to live upstairs? It was probably Howard's fault, just another thing he'd done to make Vince's life difficult. That was why he always went up the stairs ahead of him, Vince was sure. Howard was showing off his delicious pumpkin ass every time he walked up the stairs, reminding Vince of what he couldn't have. Stupid attractive Howard with his stupid orgasm inducing sexiness and his stupid shapely arse. He was fairly sure Howard would never want to bottom for him, was fairly sure they'd never be brave enough to have that conversation, especially now. He'd ruined it now. He'd ruined twenty years of friendship by letting a harmless, life-long crush (which was practically platonic anyway) turn into love. All because he'd discovered that sex with Howard wasn't just fun and mind-blowing but also meant closeness and safety and home, even if it was only for a few hours each week. It wasn't fair.

He didn't particularly _like_ wanting Howard so badly. He certainly didn't like the fact that when he closed his eyes there was a one in three chance that he'd see images of Howard moving above him, filling him, owning him, pushing him toward the edge, making him whole. Well, he liked it a little bit, but only when he was alone in the nighttimes. Most of the time it was just inconvenient. There wasn't room in his trousers for those images.

Somehow Vince found himself at the bathroom, watching as the room shifted and the tiles seemed to swim about in a sea of grout. What was he doing here again? His stomach heaved and he ran forward, falling to his knees and clutching at the toilet bowl as a strangled sob escaped his lips. Oh, that's right, he thought, being sick.

He closed his eyes as his body convulsed and the alcohol was forced back out of his stomach. He hadn't eaten dinner, which was probably why he felt so ill, but he just hadn't been able to. He hadn't been eating much of anything lately, wasn't entirely sure why, probably because it was nearly September, but he'd been secretly wishing that Howard would notice and take care of him. He should have known better by now. He should know by now that Howard had a particular gift for failing to see what was in front of his face.

Howard, for instance, had completely failed to notice that he had an admirer when Vince had started following him around on their first day of high school. He'd failed to notice Vince's attempts to become his best friend for three whole years and when he'd finally agreed to be mates he'd continued to ignore Vince's neediness and what it might actually mean. He'd failed to notice how morose Vince got during September each year and why Vince, who loved a good party, never acknowledged his own birthday.

When they'd moved to the zoo he'd failed to notice that Vince hadn't needed to tell his parents that he was moving out of home, and he'd failed to see how lonely and scared Vince had been that first year. Yep, Howard was a true master when it came to not seeing Vince. And Vince was a master when it came to hiding how he was actually feeling. Yeah, he was pretty thick and was easily taken in by people but he was also good at hiding things. Things like loneliness and embarrassment and shame. He'd had a lot of practice at hiding those. The one time he'd tried showing his emotions to Howard, the other man had thrown tea in his face. Granted he'd only been upset over that burke, Lance, stealing his identity but he'd thought that if he started with something simple maybe he and Howard could grow their friendship a bit. It hadn't gone according to his plan.

He'd sort of thought that after a few weeks of regular sex Howard would want to expand things, turn what they had into a real relationship, but he'd forgotten about Howard's obsessive need to compartmentalise. Sex happened on Sundays and wasn't talked about during the week and that was Howard's way of keeping the situation under control. He'd probably made up a whole bunch of rules as well, like the kissing. Vince loved kissing and he desperately wanted Howard to kiss him, but Howard never did. He wondered, as he lay his face against the cool bathroom tiles, his stomach finally empty, whether a kiss from Howard would be magic. It had seemed so the first time, except that Vince hadn't really wanted it then, and the magic had been short-lived. Maybe this time a kiss would do more than making them slightly horny and more than slightly embarrassed. Maybe it would make Howard see that they were meant to be together as more than just friends and friends with benefits. Then again, it might turn one of them into a frog. Or just make Howard chuck Vince completely. Vince didn't want to be homeless again. Being homeless was rubbish.

He closed his eyes groggily, wishing he could have a drink of water. Somewhere nearby he heard a door bang and footsteps coming up stairs but he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He doubted Howard would even notice he was in here. He tried to open his eyes again but found that he couldn't. He never could when it was the third possibility: not the images of Howard or plain darkness, but the other thing. The thing he had never wanted to see in the first place. The smell triggered it, the horrible stink of vomit that clung to the air and made his nose itch. He tried to get up to flush the loo and the smell away with it but it was already to late. Vince slept.

* * *

_Vince was happy. He wasn't normally happy, didn't usually have anything to be happy about, but tonight, well tonight he was happy. He grinned giddily, drunkenly. Normally his dad guarded the key to his liquor cabinet with an eagle eye and a fat fist but tonight he'd gotten lucky. The last time, when he'd been caught having a go at the cabinet, the resulting beating had been bad enough that his mum had been forced to take him into Accident and Emergency, what with him still vomiting after two days and unable to walk straight. He still wasn't sure what a detached retina was but it'd left his right eye blurry and made reading and writing even more difficult than they'd been before. And that was after the surgery. It hadn't stopped Vince having another go at the liquor cabinet though, and succeeding. _

_Vince crept through the dark house, careful not to make any noise. He'd nicked off to his treehouse with the brandy bottle but now he wanted his pillow and his bed and it was late enough that both his parents seemed to be asleep. He moved silently up the stairs, grinning lightheadedly. He was good at being quiet and not being seen when he wanted to be, especially since he was so much smaller than most ten year old boys. All he had to do now was make it past his parents' bedroom and he was safe. Except that the door to their room was open._

_The grin dropped from Vince's face and he peered through his mousy fringe in trepidation. His heart pounding, he tip-toed toward the open door. If his dad spotted him he'd be in for a belting. He had to get past the door, he just had to. He peeked his head around the edge of the doorway carefully, trying to focus his bad eye, trying to see whether his parents were asleep or not. Instead what he saw made the brandy come surging back up his throat in a burning wave. _

_The bed was a mess of blood and things that Vince didn't have the words for and his dad was in the middle of it, his eyes glazed and staring. His mum, her face a mess of bruises as usual, lay by the foot of the bed, her wrists stained dark and her body as lifeless as a marionette. The knife by her hand was like something from a horror movie, the kind that Vince watched with his hands over his eyes late at night. It was too big, too red, too real, and Vince shrieked, pulling at his hair and shaking, screaming until the front door was eventually battered down and men in various uniforms, police and paramedic, ran up the stairs to find the source of the hideous sound. _

_They'd tried to be nice. They'd tried to be understanding. But Vince couldn't be consoled. He'd run and had remained hidden for a full week before a neighbour had found him and taken him to the police station. _

_It had been September twentieth, the day he found his father murdered and his mother dead at her own hand. Two weeks after his tenth birthday, and Vince had never had a happy September since. _

_Every time he was forced to think of it all his mind could conjure up was the blood in the moonlight, the stink of death and bodies that had lost control of their functions, the smell of his own vomit, and the screaming. So much screaming. Screaming until his throat tore and his bad eye clouded over. _

_Screaming until..._

* * *

"Vince? Vince? What's wrong?"

...until Howard was there, and Vince didn't have to think anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Howard had hoped that he and Vince might be able to talk when he got home but had also been secretly relieved to see his best friend passed out on the bathroom floor instead. Well, perhaps relieved was the wrong word, since Vince looked to be in a pretty bad way, but at least he wasn't out on the streets somewhere or worse, awake and angry at Howard for whatever had gone wrong in their arrangement. He stashed the Bounty bars and got ready for bed quickly and efficiently, carefully stepping around Vince to flush the loo, grimacing as he did so. Vince seemed to have vomited until there wasn't even bile left and it turned Howard's stomach. He brushed his teeth quickly and left a plastic tumbler of water on the floor where his friend would see it when he woke up feeling dehydrated, as Howard knew he would. There wasn't much else he could do until Vince woke up and Howard could hand him a Resolve and a plate of dry toast.

He'd just settled down to sleep when the noise started. At first it was a strange keening, like an animal in pain and Howard's first thought was that another fox had moved in to the alley behind the shop but then it got louder and soon the flat was full of tortured screams and Howard went racing from his room to the bathroom and the source of the noise. Vince sounded like he was being attacked by mutant slime creatures, or worse, having his hair shaved off, but when Howard arrived there was no one attacking Vince. Vince wasn't even awake. He was twitching on the floor, his arms and legs bruising as they were thrown about the tight space, his face almost purple from the shouting. His hair was a mess, the water had spilt and Howard watched for far too long before he realised he should probably try to wake his friend up, or at least calm him down.

"Vince?" he called, kneeling down gingerly as Vince continued to howl. "Vince, you need to wake up now. Wake up, little man, you're having a nightmare."

It was no good. Howard put his hand nervously on Vince's shoulder and was surprised when Vince's movement decreased and his shouts began to tail off.

"Vince?" he whispered again. "Vince? What's wrong?"

Vince's eyes burst open, darting around and not focusing on anything for a long while. Howard helped him into a sitting position but when Vince put his hand in the spilt water he jumped and tears began to tumble down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, his voice barely audible and so raw it made Howard wince. "I didn't m-mean to..."

Howard frowned until he saw that Vince's distress was centered around the damp puddle he was sitting in.

"It's just water, little man. I left a drink for you and you knocked it over in your sleep. That's all."

Vince nodded but didn't look any calmer. His body was thrumming with tension and he still didn't seem to know where he was. Howard had witnessed Vince's nightmares before, but only once or twice and never like this. Usually Vince shrugged him off as soon as he was awake and then went for a really long shower. This time it was different. He carefully pressed his hand to Vince's cheek to tilt his face up, trying to get Vince to look at him so that he could somehow sort this out but when he saw Vince's eyes he gasped. While one was simply red from crying the other was red from blood, the whole eye swollen and angry and Howard suddenly realised why Vince wasn't able to focus on anything and seemed so disorientated.

"Vince," he whispered, shuffling himself closer on the cold floor so that he could support the smaller man. "Vince, can you see?"

"I..."

Vince tried to speak but Howard could clearly hear how it was hurting him. He shook his head and Howard bundled him into a cuddle. He was still shaking and trying to cry, though silently this time, and Howard tried to think of a possible reason for Vince's behaviour. This wasn't how things usually went between the two of them. Vince was the bright, sunshine one; if anyone should be having night terrors it should be Howard, except that nothing had ever happened to Howard to cause this level of distress.

It couldn't be because of their... Sunday night activities... could it? Vince had seemed skittish and yeah, he'd run off, but surely even Howard's performance wasn't so bad that the thought of doing it again left Vince in this state. He desperately wanted to know what'd sparked off what had obviously been a very intense nightmare but knew that there were more pressing matters to attend to first.

"Vince," he spoke as gently as he could. "We need to get you to the hospital, little man."

"No-" Vince croaked desperately before his throat seized up and he began gasping for air. Howard scooted them both closer to the sink and filled up the tumbler with water. He was impressed at his ability to do so with one hand, from the floor, and with a lap full of distressed Vince but decided that he'd boast about it later. Vince wasn't in a fit state to compliment him anyway.

He held the water to Vince's lips and watched as the other man closed his eyes and drank. It was an action so reminiscent of their first time together that it made Howard shiver. It was an act of surrender, of vulnerability, of trust in Howard to look after him, and Howard suddenly began to wonder whether he had failed in that. Vince had dressed up tonight because tonight was six months since they'd started... whatever it was they were doing and he'd seemed unsettled and especially needy of late. There had been the whole, 'I want to do it _this_ way' thing and last week Howard was sure Vince had tried to kiss him on the mouth, only to chicken out at the last minute and kiss his cheek instead.

Was it possible, could it really be, that Vince Noir had fallen in love with Howard Moon?

The thought was too big, the size of it was pushing at his skull and threatening to take over the whole bathroom and he knew he needed to set it aside, at least for a while. Vince had calmed down a little more but one look at his eye steeled Howard's resolve.

"We do need to go to the A and E, Vince," he said softly but sternly. "You're eye's all red and you can't see a thing out of it, am I right?"

Vince whimpered and clutched at Howard's pajama shirt, trying to form words against the will of his damaged throat.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Promise."

They were barely words but if Howard could understand Vince when the man had a mouth full of jelly tots, he could understand his hoarse whispering.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, little man," he murmured in reply. "Let's just get you to a doctor, ok?"

He lifted Vince gently back onto the floor and stood up reluctantly. Vince was still grasping for him and he felt horrible leaving him there but he needed to get dressed and find Vince's wallet and... phone a taxi, he realised as his head span slightly at the sudden shift in his posture. He'd had five beers and he was tired and he wasn't sure that he could make it to the hospital safely at all. He grabbed his phone and punched in the number for the local cab company as he struggled out of his pajamas and back into his cords. He should make himself a coffee too, he thought. This was probably going to be a long night. From the bathroom he heard the desolate sound of Vince's broken sobbing and sighed shakily. This was definitely going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**A chapter in which nothing actually happens. I'll try to do better for the next one. Sorry.**

* * *

Vince Noir hadn't been Howard's first choice for best mate. He hadn't been anyone's first choice really. The kid was weird; tiny and hyper and not quite in the real world, with eyes like a nervous bush baby. But Howard had let him hang around because truth be told, Howard didn't have any other friends. He and Vince had been the two new boys. Whilst everyone else in their grade had known each other from primary school and already had their friends and cliques in place, Vince and Howard had both just moved to the area and had turned up on their first day of high school knowing no one.

Howard had come down from Leeds with his mum and spoke about it at length, or at least for as long as Vince would listen. He hated London with all its noise and oppressive smells (even if his part of Leeds hadn't been much better) and the stupid accents everyone had. Vince's accent had been the worst of the lot, though different from the North London accents of their classmates. Vince didn't say where he'd moved from, or why, just that he got moved around a lot, and Howard really hadn't been that interested.

He'd eventually fallen for Vince's charm, as Vince got better at turning the charm on, and after a few years he realised that he really did like Vince. Vince made him smile, made him feel like he was actually worth something and that felt good. Yeah, Howard Moon liked Vince Noir. In fact, if he was honest, he loved him - in a purely platonic way of course - not that he ever intended to be honest. They got on like two halves of a whole, balanced each others' weirdness, (except when they made each other worse) until he couldn't imagine his life without Vince in it.

Sure, Vince did a lot of stupid things, made mistakes even a four-year-old would know to avoid, and was way too naive and trusting sometimes, but if Howard could say anything for him it was that he was always there, picking Howard up when he felt bad and solving Howard's problems, usually by getting himself in trouble instead. They'd been on more adventures than Howard wanted to remember or was willing to admit to and he wouldn't have survived a single one without Vince.

Sitting by his friend's bed in a hospital room that reeked of Detol, Howard started to feel sick as he thought back through their life together and just how much he cared for Vince, needed Vince. Worse was all that he still didn't know. They never talked about things. Not first kisses or family or how they felt. They'd been together for nigh on twenty years and Howard knew very little about Vince that he considered to be truly private.

Take his eye for instance. That had been a shock. The doctor had been by to explain that the scar tissue at the back of Vince's eye where the original stitches had been had torn again quite badly and had caused the retina to detach yet again.

Again. That was the kicker.

Howard had used to tease Vince mercilessly for his writing and spelling, for his inability to read properly, for his vacant expression when faced with a blackboard. He and Naboo even used to moan to each other about Vince's inability to see what was right in front of him, whether it was a clearly marked Secret Lab or a label on a bottle that said Do Not Drink in big letters. Howard had always hated how long Vince liked to sit in front of the mirror, twisting his head this way and that like a budgie, as if trying to see a part of his face that was hidden from him. Now he just felt wretched. Finding out that Vince had hidden his dodgy eye from his best friends for so long hit Howard like a frieze block of pain and made him desperate to know what else he didn't know. Like how Vince's eye had been damaged in the first place.

And how he was supposed to contact next of kin in an emergency when Vince's paper work just said N/A. He could contact Gary, possibly, and he'd met Bryan once but he had no idea how to contact Vince's real parents. What did N/A even mean?

He raked his fingers through his greasy hair for what was possibly the hundredth time and then ran his pointer and index finger across his moustache, smoothing it down regardless of the fact that it was already so smooth it could could have passed for a duck's back. He really wanted Vince to wake up. The nurse who'd brought him back after the procedure to fix his eye had told him that Vince would likely be out for a couple of hours and that waking up wouldn't be fun. Anesthetic on top of alcohol consumption and exhaustion and vomiting would make for one hell of a headache, not to mention that his eye would be swollen and sore _and_ he'd caused a hemorrhage in his vocal folds.

The nurse hadn't had much time for sympathy but she'd stopped to explain what a hemorrhage was and pointed Howard in the direction of the coffee machine. She'd also assured him that there was very little paper work to fill out because apparently Vince had been to the hospital before.

Howard felt lost. He'd known Vince for so long and he'd never had cause to bring Vince to this hospital, yet they had Vince's details on file. The only things he needed to fill in were Vince's current address and his next of kin.

He'd never known Vince was so good at secrets.

He brushed Vince's fringe away from his forehead and the bandage over his eye. His skin felt cold and Howard shivered in sympathy. Vince wasn't supposed to be cold.

* * *

_"Hey, Howard?"_

_Howard could tell that Vince was grinning, even before he turned around, and when he did he wasn't disappointed. Vince was hopping from foot to foot in the snow and had his hands jammed in his armpits to try and keep warm as they waited for Gary to come and pick them up, but despite the cold he was grinning like a loon. Howard tried to scowl extra hard to balance out the senseless glee but he didn't succeed. Vince was determined to have fun. At Howard's expense._

_"When you said you loved me back in the cave, yeah? That was just an 'Oh my God we're gonna die!', sheer terror type response, right?"_

_Howard rolled his eyes but Vince just laughed and moved closer, still bouncing about in his skin-tight snow suit._

_"Come on, Howard. I need to know if you fancy me or not."_

_"Never fear, Vince, I don't fancy you," Howard sighed, a smile creeping onto his face despite his best efforts. Vince's playfulness was always infectious. "You're the wrong gender for a start."_

_Vince had laughed at that and struck a ludicrous pose._

_"Only just, though, right?"_

_"What's that even supposed to mean?"_

_Vince shrugged and Howard shook his head._

_"Dunno. Just 'reckon that with the right persuasion, and thick enough beer goggles on, I could probably do it for you," Vince grinned cockily. "Not that I'm offering," he continued hurriedly. "I'm pretty sure you don't need my help, right Ole' Lady-killer Moon?"_

_"A little less of the old, thank you."_

_"I'm just saying is all," Vince laughed, ducking away as Howard tried to cuff him. "I can get pretty much anyone. And I 'reckon you'd go for me under the right circumstances."_

_He waggled his eyebrows saucily and sashayed over and Howard couldn't help but notice the way Vince's body moved, the way the fabric clung to his lithe muscles, the way his hips suggested all sorts of... things. He wouldn't need the beer goggles, he realised. Vince was a beautiful creature, whether you fancied men or not, but Howard really wasn't interested._

_"Get away, you little tit," he'd said roughly, smiling as he did so._

_"I'm not a tit," Vince shot back. "My tits've frozen off I'm that cold. What happened to my coat, anyway?"_

_"Blew away when you nicked off with that polar bear, I suppose," Howard shrugged, hypnotised by the way Vince's body was moving. He didn't like being touched - boundaries were important, especially with a little touch-demon like Vince - but he suddenly wished that he could run his hands along Vince's sides, just once._

_"Well I'm freezing. Bunch up, I'm coming in."_

_"What?"_

_But before Howard could launch a formal protest Vince had swooped in and was standing right up against him within the confines of his mink coat, shivering and trembling like a gender-confused newt._

_"Oh, that's better. Cheers, Howard."_

_Howard had wanted to push the other man away, send him rolling like he'd done when Vince's phone had interrupted the dying words of Biggie Shackleton, but he couldn't. Vince was cold and it wasn't right for Vince to be cold; Vince was the sunshine kid. Besides, he really did like Vince and the idea that he could possibly have... relations... with him had stuck in his brain like a lonely sausage in a bowl full of mash. He was fairly certain he wasn't gay. He'd watched some porn to make sure, and he now knew that he found watching porn of any kind embarrassing and gay porn particularly off-putting. He didn't mind watching it with his eyes closed, which was really just listening to it, he supposed, because the sounds were quite exciting but the idea of being with a man was even more intimidating than being with a woman. But the thought of being with Vince..._

_Howard groaned. The idea was in his head now and he knew it would stay there for years to come. At least it would provide fodder for those lonely nights in his sleeping bag but then, wanking in the keepers' hut wasn't really a safe idea either. Vince was a restless sleeper and always wriggled his way across the floor until he was pressed up against Howard's body, no matter how Howard tried to push him away. He didn't want Vince waking up to Howard moaning his name whilst engaged in the one man waltz, so to speak._

_He groaned again but Vince didn't understand why and chuckled in reply, pushing his body more firmly against Howard's as his shivers started to ease._

_"Don't worry, you great lump. I'm not gonna jump you, I'm just cold. You're my mate Howard, I'm not going to mess that up, am I? And besides," the grin was back and Howard, as always, found himself grinning in return. "You're not really my type."_

_Howard sighed and kept his eyes on the cloudy sky, scanning for the first sign of Gary's plane. Bloody Vince._

* * *

Howard shook the memory away, blinking rapidly as he tried to refocus on the form in front of him. He nervously wrote his own name and phone number in the space for Emergency Contact One, feeling like a fraud as he did so, and then fished Vince's phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the contacts until he reached N. He pressed the call button with a shaky finger and listened to it ring.

"Hello, Mr Numan?"


	6. Chapter 6

Howard had seen Gary Numan perform live several times - at Vince's insistence of course - and had enjoyed the man's music more than he'd ever admit to Vince, but he could never reconcile the electro legend, prowling around the stage and owning the crowd, with the softly spoken man who wore understated t-shirts and was like an uncle who was kindly but always thoroughly confused by Vince's affection, enthusiasm and constant conversation. All Howard knew was that he'd been Vince's neighbour when Vince was a boy and that the two kept in contact in a vague and strange sort of way.

When Howard had called Gary Numan at six am on a Monday morning to stammer about Vince being in hospital he hadn't expected the man to do much. He certainly hadn't expected to find himself sitting in a hospital cafeteria an hour later, a mug of tea steaming in his hands while he struggled to stay awake and alert enough to hear what Gary had to say.

"I'm not sure how much you know," he said slowly, looking over Howard cautiously. "And I'm not sure of everything that happened to him after he went in to care... but Vince... didn't have the best start in life, if you know what I mean."

Howard nodded. He'd assumed Vince'd had a difficult upbringing based on his tendency to lie and make excuses whenever he thought he was in trouble but it was just another thing they'd never spoken about.

"His dad beat him. And his mum. It wasn't pretty."

Gary's voice was soft but blunt and Howard found himself leaning in to hear the man's words more clearly.

"I called the police on them a few times but they always denied it. Then when Vince was nine he ended up in this place with his eye and nose all messed up. I don't know what happened exactly but... it ruined his vision."

"Detached retina," Howard offered and Gary nodded solemnly.

"Sounds about right. The family got a visit from social services but nothing changed. It used to make me so mad. My wife and I, when we were first married, we struggled so much to have children, and the monsters next door used theirs as a punching bag. And Vince was such a sweet kid, weird but sweet. I gave him a little electric keyboard for his birthday one year and he hugged me every time he saw me for about a month afterwards. He's still a sweet kid."  
Howard nodded. This was all news to him but he'd seen the keyboard, old and battered but loved more than even the Nicky Clarke crimpers. He took a sip of his tea and looked up at Gary, willing him to continue.

"One night I heard screaming. It was horrible and I was pretty sure it was Vince. I called the police and they came eventually and broke down the door and found him... His mum had topped herself. Kitchen knife. But not before she took that bastard of a husband to hell with her. Vince found them. He was ten, I think. Ten years old. Can you even imagine? And when the police turned up he bolted. I found him a week later hiding behind the bins at the end of our street. His eye'd gone funny again, was horrible. He got put into care but for the first year he wasn't too far away and I made sure he had a way to get in touch with me if he ever needed to. He'd call from time to time - when he was particularly miserable - or when he wanted to tell me about you. I'm glad you called me today. Thank you."

Howard took another swallow of tea as the information settled in. It sounded horrific, worse than he could have imagined, and he had no idea how to respond to Vince in light of this. He hadn't told Howard about it, which probably meant that he didn't want Howard to know and he had no idea why all of this had suddenly surfaced.

"I didn't know who else to call," he mumbled into his mug. "I had no idea about his parents. He doesn't have any other family that I know of..."

"He has you."

"What?"

Howard looked up at the older man. Gary wore his usual, unreadable expression and in his sleep deprived state it was especially unnerving.

"He has you," Gary repeated.

"But I'm just a mate," Howard argued. "I'm not anyone important."

"You're everything. I don't think Vince would be here if it weren't for you."

"What?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly a stable teenager, was he? But he stuck with you. You're good for him."

Howard gaped.

"What?"

"You say that a lot," Gary chuckled quietly. He climbed to his feet slowly and stuck his hands in his pockets, giving Howard an understated smile.

"I'm going up to check on Vince, then I'll head off. I'll check on him again tomorrow. Call me if you need anything else and... figure things out, yeah? Bye."

Howard watched him go, his mind blank through sheer panic. Did Gary know about them, about what they'd been doing? Did he think they were - an item?

It was laughable, Howard tried to tell himself. They were sleeping together but they weren't a couple, far from it. Except that they kind of were, he knew. Everyone said so.

The problem was, Howard wasn't sure that he fancied Vince. They were friends and he loved him as a friend and put up with his idiocy and knew that he didn't function properly as an adult without Vince by his side, but he wasn't sure if that was enough. The ssss - he tried to say it in his head and failed - was amazing, better than he'd ever imagined possible, and he would quite like to try it sober some day, and without the need to keep it a secret. He'd quite like to stay and snuggle Vince afterwards and wake up in his bed the next morning, so that he could watch Vince wake up like he used to do at the zoo. He'd quite like to kiss Vince and show the world that while they were all pining away for the amazing Vince Noir he, Howard Moon, had an all access pass. He wanted to take care of Vince and hold his secrets for him and grow old with him.

And maybe... that _was_ love...

Somehow Howard had thought there'd be more romance. He thought he'd fall in love and it would actually feel like falling. He thought there would be a dramatic rush like plummeting from a cliff top at midnight, but being with Vince, the way he felt now, that had been more like rolling lazily down a grassy hillside in springtime.

And perhaps that was just as good, or better.

That still left the whole issue of him not being gay. Howard pressed the heels of his palms into his tired eyes and tried to sort it out. He didn't feel gay. He didn't feel bisexual. Then again, he didn't know how it was supposed to feel when one was gay. He'd always assumed that people either felt gay or straight. Howard wasn't sure that he felt anything, and that was a depressing thought. He found women arousing - in a general sort of way - but he'd seen men that were pretty darn arousing too, which was confusing. He tried to think back to people he'd found attractive over the years. They were generally thin, with big eyes and crooked noses and pale skin and... oh.

Howard dragged himself from his chair and back down the corridor towards the lifts, realisations tumbling out of his head so fast he worried he might trip over them.

Every person he'd ever fancied had looked like Vince, and it had been their Vinceness which had attracted him. Even Mrs Gideon. He'd pined after her milky skin and prominent nose and loved the way her glasses magnified her eyes. It was all Vince. Even before he'd inadvertently planted the thought of the two of them together Howard had been, subconsciously, lusting for his best mate.

He got into the lift, thankful that it was empty, and leaned heavily against the wall. He didn't feel gay, or straight. Maybe he was bisexual after all but maybe, he thought, maybe it was just Vince. He took a deep breath to stop the torrent of emotion that was threatening to burst forth and suddenly realised that he felt like he was about to fall.

And then he was. But not his body.

He'd done the slow roll into affection with Vince, until their lives were so intertwined that there was really only one life and the love that was woven through that was comfortable and safe and easy. But now he was falling, and it was exhilarating and frightening and made him want to vomit. This definitely felt like falling in love, really falling in love, rather than a crush or lust. Howard wondered whether he should buy Vince some roses, or a teddy bear or a balloon or chocolates, something to show that he'd finally caught up. He needed a gesture.

He licked his lips nervously and then remembered. He remembered the way Vince had licked his lips as they'd had ssss, as they'd ... made love. He thought of the desperate way the smaller man had gasped and the red shine of those lips as he'd forced himself not to push forward and kiss Howard. He thought of the way those lips and trailed across his neck and jaw and cheek, desperately searching, wanting, giving and needing.

His breathing quick and uneven, Howard now knew what his gesture had to be. He shuffled from foot to foot, urgent to be back at Vince's bedside and then realised: the lift wasn't moving. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts of Vince that he hadn't pressed the floor he wanted. He groaned and jabbed the button several times, twitching and impatient. He'd finally figured things out and now there was no time to lose.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm uploading this chapter now because it came really easily but now I'm stuck so this little bit will have to tide you over for the next two days.**

**Thank you for the reviews, they've been wonderful and have made the whole writing process easier.**

**Ta-ra.**

* * *

Vince felt sick. He couldn't see properly and the room he was in kept moving about. It wasn't a room he recognised and he didn't know who had him now, or how long he'd be there. He hated being moved around. The foster people always hated him. Somehow, Vince knew that wasn't right. He didn't have guardians any more, did he? He had Howard now, didn't he? But he couldn't see Howard anywhere and the bed was rocking and something was stuck to his arm, making it feel heavy and fuzzy. He was alone, and Vince never wanted to be alone.

He tried to sit up but it didn't work and he started to shake feebly as his stomach began to climb up his throat. A woman walked into the room in a blue dress. A nurse, a voice in Vince's head told him. She came to check something near his shoulder, an IV, Vince suddenly realised. But no, no, that meant...

He looked down at the needle in his arm and began to shudder. No, not again. He hated needles because needles meant blood and blood meant death and Vince didn't want to die. He really didn't want to die.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," the nurse whispered softly. "You're in the hospital. You're eye's been fixed and you'll feel better soon."

Vince tried to speak but she hushed him.

"Don't try to talk, you've hurt your throat and you need to rest it for a few days. Screamed yourself hoarse, apparently. Do you remember?"

Vince began to shake his head but then stopped. He remembered the screaming, the blood and the smell and the shadow creeping across his eye. He nodded to the nurse and felt a tear slide over his cheek and down into his hair.

"It's alright, pet. It's alright," the nurse murmured before looking up and smiling. "And look, your dad's come back up to see you."

"No!"

Vince's voice sounded like ripping fabric and he tried weakly to escape the bed but it was no use. He didn't know where he was, Howard was gone and now, somehow, his dad was back and he had no way of escaping him. He scratched at the IV but the nurse pulled his hand away and suddenly there was another hand on his as well. It was a gentle hand and Vince peered blearily into Gary's soft eyes.

"It's alright, Vince," he said. "It's just me."

"Gary?"

"Yeah, Vince. Calm down now," he whispered, and Vince looked up into the older man's sad face and relaxed back into the bed. Gary sat down beside him, humming soothingly and Vince felt another tear escape his eye and track slowly down the side of his face. He closed his eye to blink it away but found he couldn't open it again. He was so tired. Gary'd look after him, and when he woke up he'd ask him where Howard'd gone. He just needed a little sleepy first.

* * *

_"__Hi Gary!"_

_"__Uh, hi Vince."_

_Gary looked down at the tiny boy bouncing about and blocking his way out of the front door. Vince's hair was hanging down over his eyes as usual and looked like it needed a serious wash, but the kid didn't seem to mind. Six-year-old boys were much less fussy about that sort of thing. That and he couldn't exactly wash it himself, Gary supposed. He had a large bruise on his left cheek that hadn't been there a few days ago and Gary felt that he should probably ask about it._

_"__Hey, Gary, I saw that music video of yours on tellie yesterday! It was genius!"_

_Gary smiled, it was hard not to when faced with Vince Noir's enthusiasm but he really did think he needed to ask about the bruise._

_"__Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. What happened to your face, Vincey boy?"_

_"__Um..." _

_Vince's eyes darted about, huge in his little face, and Gary wondered what excuse he'd get this morning._

_"__I was hunting dinosaurs and... um, I was trying to find one of them herbaminavoreses but... um, a t-rex appeared instead and I told him that his arms were too short and he should work out more, and he got well cross, and he told me he was gonna smack my face in, and I said, 'yeah, what with, those tiny arms?' and hit me with his big tail instead, and I fell down and had a sleepy and that's definitely what happened completely the truth."_

_"__Is it?"_

_"__Um... yes?"_

_Gary just stared. Someone should write those excuses down. Some of them were imaginative genius. Despite being completely bonkers, Vince was an adorable child, and he didn't understand how his parents could be so cruel, or how Vince could continue to shower them with affection the way he'd seen the kid do. _

_"__You sure about that, Vince?"_

_"__Yeah. Can I borrow your eye liner pencil 'cos my mum won't let me have hers and I wanna look like the cool boys like you, so can I borrow one of yours until I'm big enough to make money and buy my own?"_

_Gary stared again. He hadn't really anticipated his musical style being enjoyed by six-year-olds but it felt nice to have a fan, even if it was just the kid next door._

_"__I don't think I should give you eyeliner just yet, Vince," he said quietly, kneeling down so that he was at the boy's eye level. "It can be tricky and you might poke yourself. We wouldn't want you hurting your nice blue eyes, would we?"_

_Vince's shoulders slumped and his lip wobbled. Gary wanted to give him a hug but knew he couldn't. He considered himself Vince's friend but he wasn't on the best terms with the boy's parents and if they saw him hugging their son they'd probably accuse him of something nasty._

_"__But I can have some when I'm big, right?"_

_The little voice sounded so forlorn that Gary nodded without a second thought. He'd buy the kid eyeliner for his thirteenth birthday, whether they were still neighbours or not, he decided. Vince deserved to be showered with presents and affection and praise and it was heartbreaking that he wasn't._

_"__My mum says that real boys don't wear make-up. She was cross."_

_Gary nodded slower this time. The bruise was on Vince's left cheek and Gary had learnt a few things about Vince's parents in the last few years. If Vince was hit by his dad his whole right side would be purple and blue and black. If it was his mum, it was more likely to be a single direct hit on the left. _

_"__Did you try to use your mum's make-up? Is that why she hit you?"_

_Vince looked up and Gary saw the answer clearly on the kid's face but Vince shook his head so fast he nearly toppled over._

_"__It was the t-rex. I told you. My mum loves me and I need to be a good boy but I'm a naughty boy."_

_"__Ok," Gary said, standing and starting to move down the path to his car, Vince trailing along at his side. He'd already called the police once to make a complaint but it hadn't led to anything. Vince's saving grace was his optimism and his desperate desire to be loved and to be allowed to show the love he had for other people. He just wished there was someone else in Vince's life who saw him for the great person he was and was growing into, someone who'd love him properly._

_"__Look," he said seriously as he turned to get into his car. "If you ever need to tell me anything, anything at all, you can. You can knock on my door and I'll answer, ok? You can call me too. I won't get mad. I don't think you're a naughty boy."_

_Vince's smile had seemed to brighten up the whole street, turning a grey, overcast day into something wonderful for a few moments. Gary smiled too but he still didn't feel happy._

_"__Thanks Gary," Vince bubbled happily as he skipped back down the path to his door. "I will. Promise."_

* * *

The first time Vince kissed a boy, he called Gary. When he had sex with a girl, when he got beaten up by the other kids in the foster home, when he kept having nightmares and didn't know what to do, when he failed his driving test because of his fuzzy eye, when Howard asked him to come and work at the zoo - Vince called Gary. He also called Gary when he felt sad, which wasn't often, but was most often in September. Gary usually just listened, or put his wife on when it was a girl/boy related problem or something to do with the ever-present Howard crush. As the years went by the calls came less frequently but Gary always kept an eye on Vince. He'd pop around with a new eye liner pencil or a preview of his latest album or inside information on where certain pop stars might be hanging out. Vince needed checking on.

He hadn't really been surprised when Vince had called a few months ago in a bit of a state because he and Howard had 'accidentally' crossed the physical boundary and he couldn't make sense of his feelings. Gary had only been surprised that it had taken them so long to get there but he was worried too. Vince was fractured, permanently wounded by his parents, and he didn't really trust people deep down. It would be a hard thing for Vince to come to terms with his feelings because loving someone was, to Vince, a dangerous thing. Despite everything they'd done to him Vince had loved his parents and he'd known that they loved each other. Unfortunately those were some of the only examples of love that Vince had experienced in his life, and it hadn't left him with a positive understanding.

To him love meant pain and rejection and horror. The people you loved left you and damaged you and it was important to keep part of yourself hidden so that you weren't destroyed completely. That was how Vince understood love. He was a romantic at heart - Gary had heard him as a boy, singing power ballads out of tune whilst bashing at his little keyboard - but he had no experience of romance. It was no wonder that Vince was afraid of his feelings.

Gary'd tried to be a positive influence on him but he hadn't really been able to do much. From what he knew of Howard, the man was emotionally repressed but kindly and sensitive and god knew Vince needed sensitivity. Gary didn't want to push either man too hard but he needed them to talk to each other. Not only because they were destined to be together and the sooner they worked that out the happier everyone would be, but because the anxiety of the situation had brought the memories back too strongly and Vince wasn't coping with them. Gary didn't mind that Vince had taken to calling him every Monday but now the boy was in hospital because his dreams were so vivid and intense they'd physically damaged him. His birthday was a week away, which meant that soon it would be the anniversary of his parents' death and Gary hated that anniversary. Vince and Howard needed to get themselves sorted before then so that Gary didn't have to spend the night wondering if Vince was ok and eventually going out to find him, drunk and tearful at some club. He had his own kids now and saw even more clearly what Vince hadn't been given but he also needed to let Vince grow up, he knew. Not that he resented being there for him but it was time for Vince, and Howard, to move on to the next stage of their lives, and let Gary get back to changing nappies and playing with toddlers. Perhaps there was some way he could help with that, he thought. Vince's birthday was next week, after all.

He stood up and stretched tiredly. He was getting too old for this but he didn't really mind. His wife called Vince his first child, the one born from a love of electro and make-up and music and performance, and she had urged him to go to the hospital straight away and he had.

And now he had a simple plan to put into action.

He walked quietly through the ward and out to the lift, stepping into one as Howard emerged from the other, and back in his bed, Vince whimpered sadly in his sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**I managed to write this so here you go. And there's a grown-ups themes warning for this one too.**

**Ta.**

* * *

Howard walked down the hallway toward Vince's bed, trying to think how he would be able to do what he needed to do, but was intercepted by a nurse.

"The man who was with Mr Noir just before," she said in a meaningful tone. "Was that his father?"

"No," Howard shook his head. "It was Gary. Gary Numan, the pop star. Why?"

The nurse pursed her lips and looked off in the direction of Vince's room.

"Is his father likely to visit? Only," she paused and Howard could see she was searching for words. "When I told him his father was here to see him, because I thought the other man, Gary, was his father, he became very distressed. He calmed down when he saw who it actually was but... I'd like to know if Mr Noir is likely to have visitors who could distress him. If he keeps crying out and screaming he'll do permanent damage to his vocal folds."

Howard shuffled from foot to foot, his panic rising at the thought of Vince's distress but at least now he could give some answers.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "His dad's dead. So's his mum. It wasn't particularly nice, and..."

"I understand," the nurse nodded with a sad smile. "He's sleeping again now but when he wakes up I'll change the dressing on his eye and give him some pain meds. I'll ask one of the doctors to stop by too, to sign off so I can take the IV out. I got the feeling he really didn't like it."

Howard gave her a small smile in return.

"Vince hates needles. Um... can I see him now?"

The nurse's smile widened.

"Of course, pet. Just tell him to keep quiet and he should be free to go by Thursday or Friday."

Howard thanked her and walked nervously into Vince's room, closing the door behind him. He didn't really want an audience for this. Not yet, anyway.

As he sat down on the chair by the bed it gave a squeak and Vince's good eye fluttered open. He looked like a princess from a fairytale, weak after her enchanted sleep, and Howard grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry."

"Mmpf."

Howard nodded like he'd understood and glanced at Vince's tired and frustrated face. They had always been rubbish at talking to one another but maybe it would be easier now that one of them couldn't actually talk. it was worth a shot. Howard cleared his throat and Vince looked up at him, pouting but silent.

"You're not allowed to talk. Sorry, little man, doctor's orders. Well, nurse's orders, but I think she got her orders from the doctor, so... anyway, you're not allowed to talk until your throat's had a chance to heal. You caused a hemorrhage in your vocal folds."

Howard saw Vince's confusion and his free arm darted up to his throat.

"It means you bruised your voice box, Vince. You just need to rest it for a few days, alright?"

The pout deepened but Vince nodded and Howard took it as a good sign. He shuffled the chair as close to the bed as it would go and then took Vince's hand. Vince jumped at the initial contact but then tightened his grip convulsively and Howard knew he wouldn't be getting away any time soon, even if he wanted to.

"Vince, I-"

Howard suddenly felt panic grip him again. What if he was wrong? What if Vince didn't fancy him? Didn't love him at all? He might be about to make a complete tit of himself over a series of misinterpreted signals. But then he looked at Vince, peering at him with his one good eye, the bandage on the other somehow making him look like a lost little soldier and utterly adorable. Anyone else would look odd and unfortunate but Vince could even work bandages and Howard felt strangely proud.

Vince gave his fingers a squeeze and Howard recalled himself.

"Vince. You really scared me last night. I saw you having that nightmare and saw you hurt and I didn't know what to do. And I want to be there for you, Vince, as more than... a mate. We- we talk all the time, you and I, but we never really _converse_. Yeah, I'm bringing that word back into the workaday vocab and don't you be laughing."

Vince smirked but didn't try to speak and Howard took a deep breath and continued.

"And the reason we don't talk, it's not because you're not smart enough, or because I'm too boring. (Shut up, I can see you laughing behind that eye of yours.) I think it's because there's so much to say that we don't know where to start, like trying to clean up the stock room after Naboo's been in there looking for his 'special' merchandise. There's just so much that we need to say and... I can't even think of an appropriate soliloquy for the occasion. So..."

He started to lean in and saw Vince lick his lips. Whether it was from nerves or anticipation Howard couldn't tell but it spurred him on and he pressed his lips gently against Vince's.

It was better than he'd been expecting. Vince's mouth didn't taste bad and his lips, though a little chapped, were still soft and full and responsive. It felt nice. And then Vince ran the tip of his tongue across Howard's lower lip and suddenly the kiss wasn't just better than he was expecting, it was so far beyond he felt like he was falling again. Vince's lips parted and his tongue darted out to stroke Howard's lips until they opened desperately and then it began to stroke _his_ tongue and Howard felt a rush that was definitely more intense than plummeting off a cliff. He moaned and Vince sighed and continued to kiss him achingly slowly, with a level of tenderness and care that made Howard's head spin. He closed his eyes and the sound of their lips, their tongues, their mouths made him ache and push against Vince a little harder.

Vince let out a breathy sound that might have been a moan if his voice had been working properly and Howard pulled back to look at him, licking his lips as he did so. Vince lay panting against his pillow, his cheeks flushed and his hands clutching at the sheets.

"I needed to give you a gesture, little man, to show you that I care about you too."

Vince nodded quickly and Howard could see how worked up the other man was. He was squirming under his blanket, making more of those breathy little sounds and suddenly Howard wanted to continue the gesture.

He stood and went to the door. There wasn't a lock so he retrieved his chair from the bedside and wedged it under the handle. At least that way they'd have some notice if a nurse came calling. That done he turned back to Vince, who was looking up at him with hazy confusion that was so endearing that Howard swooped down and kissed him again, letting his worry and fear and love spill forth as his tongue ventured forth into Vince's mouth. The smaller man arched up against him and Howard could feel how aroused he was and he quickly pulled the thin hospital blanket to one side, breaking the kiss so that he could climb properly onto the bed, which squeaked in protest.

Vince's eye darted to the door and Howard thought he understood.

"Don't worry, Vince. I'm not going to try and... make love to you right now. That can wait, and to tell you the truth, I'm so tired I wouldn't be able to anyway." He blushed but Vince's smile was understanding and gave him the courage to continue. "But I want to show you that I'm serious about... us. So I'm going to do this, even though it's a Monday."

Vince's eye fluttered closed as Howard ran his hands up the smaller man's thighs, taking the hospital gown with them until Vince's little black pants, stretched taught with his arousal, were exposed. He kissed his way up one lean, strong leg and when he reached Vince's groin, pressed his nose against the bulge in the pants and continued up to kiss Vince's belly. Vince groaned softly and when Howard licked around his hip bone and bit into the pants to tug them away his breathing began to stutter.

Howard used his hands to get the pants down until they exposed Vince completely. He'd touched Vince's cock, he'd done plenty of things with and to Vince's body, but he'd never stopped to study the member now before him. He took the shaft in his hand, feeling the velvety softness of the foreskin, the hardness beneath, and the heat radiating from it, and slowly lowered his mouth onto the head. Vince gasped and Howard swirled his tongue over the tip, flicking Vince's slit until the other man was twitching with need. He began to pump Vince's shaft and let his other hand wander over his body, exploring Vince's ever-creamy skin and Vince's hands crept down to tangle in his hair in a way that was both exciting and comforting. He was enjoying this, he realised, and he had never thought he would. Being able to bring so much pleasure just with his mouth was amazing, having Vince so vulnerable and being able to look after his needs, being able to give him what no one else was allowed to (he'd make sure no one else was allowed to from now on), it all made Howard's mind reel and he wanted to be able to do it every day.

He sucked hard and Vince's hips rose off the bed. Howard let his hands snake beneath them to grasp Vince's backside, kneading the delicious flesh as he moved his lover's body for him, building a rhythm, until Vince's hips canted one final time and he choked and spasmed and shook through his orgasm. Howard swallowed reflexively and managed not to gag as Vince's come flooded his mouth accompanied by a series of husky gasps. He kept his mouth and hands in place until Vince's body had relaxed before sitting up and putting the little black underpants to rights. He smoothed down the gown and tucked Vince back in his blanket, letting his hands drift comfortingly over Vince's body as he did so, watching as the smaller man's chest began to heave less violently and the flush began to recede from his cheeks.

Vince opened his eye and gazed blearily at Howard before a wide grin spread across his face. He went to speak but then shut his mouth again quickly, pushing his lips tight and ducking his head. Howard chuckled.

"You're welcome, little man. And thank you."

Howard stood up and stretched. He quickly put the chair back where it belonged before heading into the small bathroom in Vince's room to wash his hands. He rinsed his mouth too and gave his face a scrub to try and erase some of the exhaustion he could see there and was just coming back out when the door to the room opened and the nurse popped her head around.

"Everything ok in here?" she asked before crossing over to the bed to check on Vince who blushed and wriggled around in his bedclothes.

'Yeah, he's awake now, so..."

"I'll check on that eye, then," the nurse responded and Vince struggled to sit up a little. Howard could see the eagerness on his face at the prospect of knowing whether his face would recover properly and he had to smile. He sat down beside him and held Vince's fringe back while the nurse worked.

When the doctor arrived Howard held Vince's hand as the IV line was removed and tried his best to concentrate on everything the doctor told him. The day was disappearing fast and he could barely keep his eyes open but he felt strangely happy. Looking after Vince was nice. Knowing that he was in a real relationship with someone who he cared so deeply about was nice. Going down on Vince had been nice too. Come Friday he intended to bring his best friend home to a few changes, he decided. But first he needed to go home himself and sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**So, there's a little bit of underage action in this chapter, you've been warned. And I'm starting to think this story is nearly over. My natural urge to give a romantic and happy ending are kicking in big time and that's usually an indicator that I should wrap things up, but I don't know how or when that will happen. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

Vince chewed on his bottom lip as the shadows began to lengthen and the room grew colder. Howard had gone home for the night but he'd promised to be back tomorrow morning, straight after breakfast, and Vince was pretty sure he believed him. About coming back anyway. Howard had also said that he cared about Vince, loved Vince, and wanted to be in a proper relationship with Vince. He wasn't sure that he believed that.

It wasn't that his own feelings had changed, far from it, he was now almost desperate to be with Howard, but he was scared too. Because twenty-four hours ago Howard hadn't wanted anything more from Vince than a mate he could shag and Vince worried about what had made him change his mind. He worried that somehow, seeing Vince hurt, or finding out that he was already damaged and easy to hurt, had made Howard fall in love with him. Love meant pain, he knew that, and Vince didn't want any more pain. He especially didn't want to be hurt by Howard. Or for Howard to be hurt because of him. And he really didn't want Howard to be with him if it was out of pity.

Howard's gentleness was something Vince loved about him. He could be rough when he wasn't paying attention and quite often he didn't know his own strength, but when he wanted to, he could be extremely gentle, and knew just how to cheer Vince up, when he actually noticed he was feeling down, and Vince didn't want that to change. Howard wasn't a naturally violent man. He had a temper but he didn't normally take it out on other people. The whole Gideon incident had been an accident, the result of too much stress and disappointment, and Vince blamed himself for teaching Howard to throw a punch in the first place. Howard didn't take his anger out on other people. He just snapped brooms most of the time. Vince didn't want to change him, didn't want him to start showing his love by hitting Vince. That would eventually happen, he was sure, and he didn't want to get hit again.

An orderly came to deliver his dinner but he still wasn't hungry. He didn't understand how he could be in love with someone and be desperate for them to love him back and yet afraid at the same time and not want to be with them in case it ruined both of their lives.

He was especially scared of getting together with Howard in September. That was a sign, surely. If they got together now they'd turn out like his parents, he was certain of it. They'd love each other to death and then some poor loser would have to discover their bloody corpses. The thought made him feel ill - he didn't want to be a corpse - and he pushed the blanket down and swung his legs out of the bed. He didn't want to leave but he had to.

He reached over to pull his clothes from the small bedside table. They stank a bit but they would do. He pulled his jeans on, trying to get his body to cooperate. It was tricky when he only had one eye to work with but he'd managed before and soon enough he'd wriggled into his skinnies. He didn't know where he'd go, he couldn't go to Gary's, he'd be furious, but he'd find somewhere. He just needed to get away, he just needed...

_"__You just need to remember that love isn't all about pain and tragedy, Vince. People who love each other keep each other safe. They let themselves be vulnerable for the other person with the promise that their vulnerability will be treasured, not exploited. That's love, Vince. Anything else is just a bad dream."_

Gemma, Gary's wife, had told him that once. He'd been stressing over some girl who he thought was really fit but who kept threatening to slash him up and how Howard kept refusing to listen to his demo tapes and she'd started talking about love. He'd been a bit confused but he'd listened anyway and the words had stuck in his head. Gemma was well deep - Vince expected nothing less of the wife of Gary Numan - and he suddenly wondered if maybe it was true, what she'd said. When Vince was vulnerable Howard tended to get more gentle. When Howard was feeling exposed and scared and turned to Vince, Vince treasured that like nothing else. It was all so confusing and Howard was right, they never talked about stuff. They probably should.

Vince sighed, looking down at the shirt in his lap. He'd bought it because it was the kind of blue that brought out his eyes and Howard was always commenting on his eyes in some way. He'd even bought it from the men's section because he'd thought that if flamboyant women's clothes didn't get Howard's attention maybe men's clothes would. It had sort of worked but hadn't been enough at the time for Vince to be able to tell Howard how he felt. He still hadn't been able to tell Howard he loved him.

He couldn't leave. Not when he hadn't given this his best shot. Losing his voice was bloody frustrating and he knew he wouldn't feel comfortable until he could say 'I love you' to Howard and explain that he wasn't interested in a casual relationship anymore. He wanted Howard for life and he wanted a nice relationship, like in a Disney movie or Colin Firth film. And he wanted Howard to understand all the rubbish stuff that had happened when he was a kid. Maybe then they could have a relationship that wasn't like the disaster his parents' had been. He was scared as hell but he couldn't leave, not when Howard had finally noticed him. He needed to give Howard a gesture, he decided, to tide him over until his voice was back, but he didn't know what.

He thought about Howard's 'gesture' and smiled. They'd both been pretty vulnerable during that, and Vince didn't think Howard would suck his cock if he weren't serious, especially as it was very probably the first time he'd ever done it. That was special. He wished he could have saved more 'firsts' for Howard but life just didn't work that way. As a teenager Vince had been needy and nervous and while he'd been desperate to be as close to Howard as humanly possible, he'd also known that Howard wouldn't make a move. He really wished he'd saved those firsts for Howard now. He closed his eye and the images swam into his mind, always too vivid, and the shame that accompanied them as strong as ever. He felt so dizzy.

* * *

_Vince licked his lips. He really wished he hadn't waited so long to do this but he hadn't known how to go about it. No one wanted to hang out with him, he knew they thought he was weird, but he really needed to practice this, and he didn't need to ask Howard to know that Howard wouldn't be in to it. Howard didn't like hugs, let alone this, but Vince still thought he was the greatest boy he'd ever met. One day, when Howard was ready, Vince would be there, but he needed practice first. He needed to learn how to kiss. _

_He wondered nervously if his breath stank or how he should move his head when it all actually started, and took another sip of the sugary vodka drink in his hand to try and clear his nerves. The other boy, Vince thought his name was Max, shuffled closer, taking a swig from his own drink. They'd met an hour ago - Vince had only managed to get to the house party because one of the other boys he was living with was going - but Max seemed decent enough. He was a bit older and he'd given Vince the drink and told him his hair was pretty and his eye liner was cool. Vince tried to explain that Gary Numan had given it to him but the boy had just smirked at him and asked if he wanted a cigarette. Vince'd nodded and Max'd taught him how. So Vince asked if Max could teach him how to kiss because Max seemed to know a lot of stuff._

_"__How old you again?"_

_"__Fourteen," Vince mumbled._

_"__You look about twelve."_

_" '__m not. 'm fourteen. Turned fourteen last month."_

_"__And you a poof?"_

_"__Um..." Vince's voice wobbled and he took another sip of his drink. "Don't know. Kind of... like both... boys and girls and... I just want to practice but-"_

_"__That's cool," Max shrugged, finishing his vodka and reaching for another. Inside the house the party was raging loudly but out in the garden it was quiet and dark. Vince shivered in his thin coat and let out a squeak when the older boy put an arm around him. He didn't get much in the way of physical affection and it felt weird. Maybe if he kept trying with Howard they'd both get used to it. _

_"__You want to practice for someone in particular?" Max spoke, his voice close to Vince's ear._

_"__Um... not really."_

_"__Just a slag then."_

_"__Hmm?"_

_"__Nothin'. Just thought there might be some reason you wanted to practice getting off with boys."_

_Vince ruffled his hair and drank the rest of his vodka. Max replaced the empty bottle with a full one and Vince tried to keep his breathing steady so he didn't feel dizzy. This was all getting complicated and he didn't cope well with complicated, he wasn't smart enough._

_"__There is this one boy..."_

_"__Yeah?"_

_"__Yeah. Howard. But he's just a friend. Well, I want him to be my friend. I dunno if he is yet. And he's... beautiful... but I just wanna be 'is friend an' if we get to kiss one day that'd be genius but if we don't that's fine too, but if we do I wanna be half decent at it, so..."_

_"__So we'll practice. For Howard." _

_Vince nodded and gazed up at the boy. He didn't look like Howard but maybe that was good. It was bad enough having a crush on one boy, he didn't want to go making a habit out of it. And other than kissing practice Vince didn't really want to be friends with Max, he just wanted to be friends with Howard. And if he never got to kiss Howard that was ok too. _

_But he still wanted to practice. _

_He licked his lips again and Max leaned in until Vince could feel the other boy's warm breath against his face. He smelt like cigarettes and alcohol, Lynx body spray and sweat, and it made Vince's nose itch. Howard always smelt of soap, which was a bit better, but Vince wasn't backing out now. He kept his head steady as the other boy put his hand to Vince's cheek and then pressed their lips together. After a few moments they both started to move their lips and Vince tilted his head, trying to keep his nose out of the way. The older boy let his fingers trail through Vince's chin length hair a few times and as Vince started to relax into it he intensified the kiss by opening his mouth. Vince copied the action and suddenly felt an extra tongue in his mouth. It felt weird but nice and Vince's head started to spin as he tried to keep tabs on what was happening. He suddenly felt very hot and he was glad that his jeans were loose and baggy because suddenly he was hard and all he could think about was Howard and the tongue in his mouth, actually licking _his_ tongue, and how kissing was genius. _

_Max pushed them across the bench and further into the shadows as the kiss grew more forceful and Vince whimpered as the boy's hands began to rub his chest and back and thighs. They kissed for so long Vince wondered if the night would be over soon and the sun would come up. He needed to get back to his house before then but he just didn't want the kissing to stop. _

_Vince's whole body felt like it was throbbing with arousal now and when one of Max's hands slid over his crotch, squeezing and kneading him through the denim of his jeans, he cried into the other boy's mouth, overcome by the intensity and speed of the orgasm that ripped through him. _

_He let out a little sob. He felt sticky and dizzy and he didn't know what was supposed to happen next. _

_"__You should probably blow me now," Max whispered in his ear. "It'll be good practice. You know, for Howard an' that. It's easy as. I'll teach you." _

_"__Ok."_

_Not long after Vince stumbled down the street to his house, his teeth chattering with cold. The night hadn't gone quite like he'd planned but that was ok. He'd learnt to smoke, kiss and give blowies all in one night which was probably impressive to someone. He wouldn't be telling Howard though, no way. They'd never get around to being proper friends if he told him that. Maybe one day he would, if he knew Howard wouldn't leave or hit him but for now he'd just take it as experience gained. Vince Noir knew how to kiss: watch out world._

_He stumbled around to the back of the rundown house he had to call home and climbed agilely through the window. The world could wait for a bit though. Right now he needed a sleepy._

* * *

Vince frowned. He'd been so thick when he was young, but then again, that was part of being a teenager, wasn't it - making stupid choices and getting in over your head. He wondered how different life might have been if he'd had the courage to ask Howard to practice kissing with him instead. They might have spent the last fifteen or more years blissfully exploring each others bodies. Or Howard might have run a mile. Putting the shirt back on the bedside table Vince ran his hands through his hair. He'd been a bit of a messed up kid, but perhaps he could have a go at being a not so messed up grown-up. And there had to be a few more first he could share with Howard.

The night nurse opened his door and frowned when she saw his uneaten dinner.

"Hello," she said in a lilting accent. "Food not up to snuff tonight?"

Vince shook his head and shrugged. Even if he felt better in his head, his stomach still didn't want food. The nurse walked around to his side and looked pointedly at Vince's jean covered legs dangling from the bed.

"You going somewhere, then?"

Vince shook his head and curled back under the covers, giving her his best sheepish smile, hoping it would still work even with his right eye covered in gauze. The nurse smiled indulgently in response (Vince still had his charm) and tucked his blanket around him.

"I know you can't talk properly at the moment, and I hear you've had a rough time of it," she told him when she was done. "But is there anything I can get you to help you feel better?"

Vince thought for a moment and then nodded. There was one thing. He did a simple mime and the nurse understood straight away.

"Ah, I'll see what I can do. But you get some sleep now, ok? Your pain meds are still quite high and your body needs to rest. I'll check in on you later."

Vince nodded and put his head on the pillow, grinning tiredly. Howard had given him a physical gesture even though he didn't really like touching, because Vince responded best to physical things, so Vince would give Howard a gesture in the way he understood best too, even though he knew it'd be tricky. Genius.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to people for reviewing, as usual I have been in two minds about what I've written and comments remind me that other people are enjoying the story. This is a bit of a filler chapter but I'll do better on the next one, promise.**

**Ta.**

* * *

Howard came back each day and each day Vince greeted him with a slightly more audible hello and a lingering kiss which made Howard feel like he was back on the cliff edge. On Tuesday he brought in Vince's hair care products - well, the ones that would fit into the overnight bag - clean underpants, and Vince's own pajamas. On Wednesday he brought in Vince's make-up case and on Thursday he brought in Vince's red skinnies, white boots and black blouse in preparation for going home the next day. He also brought in Bounty bars and Vince decided that he now loved Howard even more than he had before.

Each day Howard talked and talked about how he had used to feel and what he had wanted from life and how he'd tried to be casual because he thought that was what Vince wanted. He talked about feeling angry and forgotten and lonely and how the thought of dying alone had just pushed Vince's words from the Tundra more fully into his mind.

Vince watched Howard blink back tears as he talked about his mum bundling him into their car and driving for hours and hours when she finally decided that it wasn't worth the pain to be with a man who loved alcohol more than his wife and child. Howard had hated his dad but he'd hated his mum more for taking him away from his home and his friends and his stuff. He didn't know where his dad was now and worried that he'd died completely unknown and unmourned.

Vince had never known any of it, never guessed, and his heart ached that Howard had never felt able to confide in him. Then again, he'd never confided in Howard either. Being together had always been their escape from the world but now Vince knew he wanted to face the world and shout from the rooftops that he was with Howard and Howard was his and that they were going to be happy.

He was a bit nervous about that last bit. He was good at being positive and smiling and all that but he didn't know how to play happy families. He was pretty sure that Howard didn't know anything about positive relationships either and he was scared that they'd become like his mum and dad way too easily. But he needed to try. Kissing and sitting together was wonderful and it didn't feel like they were turning into monsters. In fact, it felt just as it always had - like Vince and Howard - only with kissing and actually learning about each other.

Gary dropped around each day and on Friday morning announced that he wanted Howard and Vince to come around for dinner.

"Nothing fancy," he told them as the two men gaped at him, open mouthed. "Just me and Gemma and the kids and you and Howard. We'll cook something nice and have a cake."

"But why?" Vince whispered, his voice still tender.

"Well," Gary said slowly. "It's your birthday, Vince. You'll be thirty-two. I've known you twenty-nine years. And in all those years I've never had you over for birthday tea. And it's time that you brought Howard home to meet Gemma and the kids. We need to have a proper family dinner and meet your man, that's all."

Vince didn't want to cry, he'd done far too much of it lately and he was a bit worried about his newly unbandaged eye getting inflamed, but the tears didn't care about his reasoning and fell anyway.

"I don't like celebrating my birthday."

"I know, but you deserve to celebrate it and we should celebrate it, because you're special to us, Vince, and you should know that but I don't think you do."

Gary spoke in his usual soft monotone but Vince heard something behind the words and nodded his head. Howard squeezed his hand and Vince looked over at the man sitting beside him on the bed. Howard was trying so hard, Vince could tell that this relationship was difficult for him, with its many unknowns and lack of boundaries, and yet here he was, making the effort.

Vince swallowed hard. He wanted to be a proper grown-up and this was just another way of proving to himself that he could do it. He nodded.

"Shall we bring a salad or something?"

Gary smiled and beside him he could feel Howard's shoulders shake as he tried not to laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing, Vince," Howard choked and Gary was starting to chuckle now.

"But what?!" Vince whined and the sound of his voice cracking sobered both men.

"It's ok, Vince," Howard told him soothingly, stroking his back until Vince felt a little less tense. "We weren't laughing at you to be mean, it's just..." Howard looked down, searching for words, and Vince tried to be patient.

"It's just that I never thought I'd ever hear you say something so grown up and domestic. I think it's nice. Promise."

Vince scowled but couldn't really be cross. He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Howard's cheek, smirking when the other man blushed. Howard liked kissing but still got embarrassed doing it in front of other people, even when it was only Gary.

"Yeah, well, family dinner is... pretty domestic, isn't it?"

Howard grinned sheepishly, echoing Vince's body language with his own.

"I'm afraid I don't really know, little man. I don't have much experience of family dinners to be honest."

"Me neither," Vince mumbled, chewing on his thumb nail. He let his other hand creep into Howard's and felt his skin heat pleasantly when Howard squeezed his fingers in silent answer to his silent plea. They were both a bit rubbish at all of this but it was funny how quickly they were learning - staying sober and having nothing to do each day but say (and listen to) all of the things they'd never been brave enough to say had helped a great deal and Vince thought that with a bit of time they might actually make a go of it. Especially if Howard kept letting him kiss him.

Gary chuckled again and Vince looked up. Gary had been one of his few certainties growing up. Whatever else happened he knew that he could call Gary and not be considered naughty or wrong or weird. He didn't always say much and Vince envied the older man's ability to hide his emotions, but he knew that Gary cared about him. To discover that he considered Vince family made him feel a bit too sentimental and sappy.

"What?" he asked, when Gary's smile grew wider. Gary shook his head.

"I'm just glad you two have sorted things out. Don't screw it up."

They both nodded quickly and Gary left, after telling them to be at the house at five-thirty tomorrow evening. Right now it was time to go home.

...

Vince tried to calm his breathing. His vision in his right eye was a little blurrier than before but he'd looked carefully in the mirror before they left the hospital and it wasn't noticeable. He'd been twice as careful with his hair and make-up and had spent fifteen minutes checking and re-checking his clothes before Howard had gotten fed up with him and dragged him away from the bathroom mirror. And now here he was, standing outside the hospital doors while Howard brought the car around. He looked fine, he kept telling himself, but he still felt as though he was being stared at. Could other people tell that he was damaged? Or was it possible to tell just by looking that he wasn't single anymore? He didn't know and he hated not knowing what people were thinking about him, especially when he was on his own. He needed Howard to hurry up and come back.

Tucked in the make-up case by his side was the notebook the nurse had found him and the coloured pencils she'd procured from the children's ward. He didn't know when he was going to give it to Howard, at the same time he told him he loved him, he supposed.

Oh, God, that was scary. He wanted to do it but he had no clue how to bring it up. He'd tried to think of a plan for how to tell Howard everything but all he'd managed was a herd of plan ponies and they hadn't been any help at all, they'd been too busy checking out each others boots. He ruffled his hair nervously and gave an audible sigh of relief when Howard pulled up in the van, grinning like a great dope.

"Get in quick, you little tart," he said through the open window and Vince piled his stuff in the back before jumping into the passenger seat beside him.

"Why, what's the problem?" Vince asked when he'd shut the door and was struggling with the stubborn seatbelt.

"You're too attractive to be standing out on the roadside like that," Howard replied as he pulled back out onto the road. "You look like a Jaquettie commercial waiting to start. It's not decent. I need to get you home where other people can't gawk at you."

"You want to shut me away, is that it?"

"I want the only person looking at you to be me, little man. At least for the next twenty-four hours. I want to... make up for lost time..."

Vince grinned and ran his tongue across his teeth, enjoying the way it made Howard blush and grip the wheel a bit more tightly. He was with Howard, properly with Howard, and somehow he reckoned that nothing could go wrong now. And he couldn't wait to get home and show Howard some of the things he'd learnt since he was fourteen, this was going to be genius.


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter turned into an absolute monster, sorry! I blame Howard. I always blame Howard and then he calls me a tart and I poke my tongue out at him and he laughs and makes me breakfast in bed... Sorry, drifted off there for a bit. But yeah, this chapter's long and contains adult activities. Enjoy.**

* * *

Howard was confused. No, he'd gone beyond confusion into perplexity and next stop was complete mystification. He'd done everything right and yet still, somehow, it had all gone wrong. It was the story of his life but he'd actually thought life was going to get better now. He wrapped his arms more firmly around Vince as the smaller man shook with sobs and gasped quietly into the pillow. It was breaking Howard's heart but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He didn't like physical contact, generally speaking, and so he wasn't sure what the rules were. What was expected of a boyfriend when his partner was crying forlornly after a night that Howard would have described as filled with mind blowing love-making? What was the protocol when you were holding someone you loved as they cried their heart out, and you weren't entirely sure why? Vince wasn't responding to anything he said and it was starting to make his own eyes prickle with tears.

He tried to think back to pinpoint what might have caused a breakdown at three in the morning but it was hard to recall the previous night's events without his heart starting to race and his... manly parts... getting excited. He was pretty sure Vince wouldn't appreciate that right now. And yet...

* * *

_Howard opened the door for Vince and watched as he made his way up the stairs to the flat with an equal parts fear and excitement. He liked letting Vince walk up the stairs ahead of him and now he could finally enjoy it without feeling like a dirty old perv. Vince's small, round arse wiggled delightfully as he walked up the stairs in his red jeans and Howard grinned nervously. He really wanted Vince to like this._

_Vince wandered through the flat and up the hallway to their bedrooms but stopped when he opened his door and after a pause turned back to Howard, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed in question. Howard's grin grew wider but more nervous and he concentrated on not looking like a rapist. Their two rooms had once been one large room - before they moved in - but at some point a cheap wall had been put in the middle and an extra door added. It had been roughly done and Howard had always hated it. And so he'd spent each evening of that week carefully removing the wall, and his single bed and Vince's double bed, and turning the space into a haven that both men could enjoy. One large, kingsized bed meant that there was actually more space for Vince's clothing racks and shoe trees and Howard had installed a mirror on the wall where his bed had been. He'd painted the walls pale yellow because it reminded him of sunshine and because Vince hated beige walls and he'd hung their favourite posters on the walls and the paintings Vince had deigned not too horrible to be put on display. Howard loved Vince's art and had tried to take him to galleries when they were younger so that he could talk about the great artists and the deep and intellectual motivations behind the brushstrokes but it'd just made Vince refuse to show his work and Howard had eventually stopped. He wondered if he could convince Vince to start painting again. _

_Vince stared at Howard for a long moment before turning back to stare at the room for an even longer minute. Howard licked his lips nervously. He'd so wanted to share a room with Vince again, after those years spent in the zoo he'd gotten used to the sound of Vince's snuffling sleep noises and when they'd moved to the flat he'd missed it. And the rooms were supposed to be one room after all, and Howard thought he'd done a pretty good job in setting the place up so that they'd both be happy with it. The sheets were purple because Vince liked purple and Howard didn't dislike it and they each had their own space in the room so they wouldn't be on top of each other, but Vince wasn't saying anything._

_Howard took a tentative step forward and Vince turned at the sound of the floorboards creaking. Howard sucked in his breath at the look in Vince's eyes. They were dancing and brimming with tears and Howard wondered if he'd got things entirely wrong, until Vince smiled._

_"__Howard," he whispered. "This is genius!"_

_He walked in to the room and span about, spreading his arms out and letting out a little giggle. Howard followed, carrying Vince's bags, and when he walked through the door Vince sashayed forward to meet him._

_"__Quite the gesture, Howard," he purred, trying and failing to keep a straight face._

_"__Yes, well-"_

_"__And I've got one for you and all," Vince continued, taking his make-up case from Howard's hand and walking slowly to the new, large bed. He looked over his shoulder at Howard in a way that made his breath hitch, and then he grinned and Howard started to wonder whether he'd fallen asleep and this was just another one of his dreams. Vince patted the mattress and Howard stumbled forward to sit beside him and when he did Vince immediately wriggled his fingers into Howard's hand and pressed their shoulders together._

_"__I'm no good at words," Vince said quietly, and Howard couldn't help but find his friend's husky voice endearing. He gave Vince's fingers a squeeze, urging him to continue, pleased that Vince was finally able to open up the way he had done._

_"__I'm not good at saying stuff and I'm not good at writing stuff. I'm not like you. Even before I got... before my eye got... ruined, I wasn't that great at writing. But you like when things are deep and meaningful, when there's thoughts behind the words and feelings behind the pictures and so... so I made you this."_

_He pulled a notebook from the case and handed it to Howard who took it reverently. _

_"__And this is?"_

_"__Us," Vince replied, staring hard at the cover of the book and Howard thought how strange it always was when Vince was the one avoiding eye contact. "Well, me, then us. It's like a diary or something but, like, retrospective."_

_"__That's a big word."_

_"__Shut up," Vince snorted, but he was smiling again and Howard smiled too, running his hand down the book's cover. _

_"__And you made it for me?"_

_Vince nodded and then finally looked up at Howard and he could see the affection so clearly in the other man's eyes that all he wanted to do was sweep him into a long and passionate kiss. But he didn't. He filed it away as the first thing to be done after looking in the book. Vince licked the corner of his lip and Howard followed the movement until Vince let out a short laugh and nudged him._

_"__So read it, you fraggle," he scolded. "Took me ages to do it. You better like it or I'll be furious."_

_Howard opened the diary and began to flick through the colourful pages. It wasn't set out like an ordinary story but then, the story of Vince and Howard wasn't an ordinary story, he supposed. Drawings and words were mixed together and flowed around each other and Howard thought that it was probably a bit like being inside of Vince's imagination - a place he hadn't managed to get to - because it was so utterly Vince. _

_He read about Vince as a tiny boy and saw the lovingly drawn portrait of a young Gary, looking more like a super hero than a pop star and the story of the little electric keyboard. He stared at the pictures of two people he didn't recognise and wished that Vince had been gifted to some other couple. He read the stories and the horror and the sadness interspersed with humour and Vince's inner, undeniable magic, which had kept him seeing fairies and dreaming of music and fame when his life was horrible. It was funny, Howard supposed, that Vince's simpleness and optimism had kept him sane when Howard so often thought of those traits as sure signs that Vince was bonkers._

_He swallowed uncomfortably when he turned to the page with the word 'Howard' written at the top and a portrait of his young self that was far too flattering. There were pages and pages of stories about Howard but the corners held the stories and scribbles of Vince's early misadventures too: boys kissed, girls explored, drugs and alcohol and cigarettes and dangerous situations. There seemed to be too many angrily doodled images of Vince being hit for Howard's liking and he decided that it was a miracle that Vince had retained his natural naivety, let alone any trust for others. _

_It took him a long time to read and there were a lot of parts that he skimmed and made mental notes to return to later but even without reading all of the words the book was bursting with emotion and story and Vinceness. It was a treasure. He closed it carefully and looked over at Vince who was studying his nails. _

_"__Thank you little man," he said in a voice that was rough with emotion and when Vince looked up he leaned in and kissed him with all the passion he'd promised when he'd put it at the top of his to do list. Vince sighed and leaned into the kiss, taking the notebook from Howard and placing it on the bedside table._

_"__I love you, Howard" he said breathlessly as he pressed their foreheads together and Howard responded by kissing him again fiercely. _

_He only stopped when Vince tried to pull Howard down on top of him. _

_"__No," he said softly as he started to remove his clothes._

_Vince looked hurt and confused but the look changed when Howard, finally free of his shirt and shoes and cords and socks and pants, lay down on his back in the centre of the bed. _

_"__I want to do it this way," he said, seeing Vince's eyes widen in surprise and lust. "If you want to." _

_..._

_Howard had always been sure he'd like being... bottom. It was Vince's fault. He had never considered the possibility of trying anything that involved an erotic use of his rear end - until Vince had mentioned, just after they left the zoo, that 'everyone's stuck a finger up there at some point or other, to see what all the fuss is about'. He'd been prepared for excruciating pain but it hadn't hurt when he'd done it to himself. It hadn't been convenient either. He'd enjoyed it thoroughly too much and it made for rather awkward self-loving sessions. But it meant that Howard knew, as he pulled Vince down on top of him and began to peel off the man's jeans and blouse, that he would enjoy the act and love that it was Vince doing it. He wasn't disappointed. _

_Vince was nervous, his hands fluttering over Howard's skin but when Howard confessed that he already knew he enjoyed: "Entertaining the rear guard, so to speak", Vince had gone in to a bit of a frenzy. His kisses had been fiery and passionate and his hands had roamed everywhere. He kissed his way down Howard's torso, stopping to suck and bite at first one nipple, then the other, rubbing his face against Howard's sparsely haired chest and pushing his own hard body, clad only in his little red pants, against Howard's stomach, hips and leg._

_Howard started to feel overwhelmed at the sensations of Vince's hands and lips and tongue as he worked his way down and any attempt to keep his breathing steady was abandoned when he felt Vince's own ragged breathing against the wiry hair at the curve of his thigh. Vince sounded as worked up as he felt and the smaller man couldn't seem to keep his hands still. They stroked between Howard's thighs delicately, getting closer with each pass to the place where he desperately wanted them to be. And then he felt something tentative and wet and warm sliding up the shaft of his cock and a deep moan escaped his lips. _

_He looked down and nearly came on the spot. There was Vince on his knees between Howard's legs, his tongue pressed against the head of Howard's penis and a look on his face that made it very clear that he was enjoying himself thoroughly. He grinned at Howard, who tried to smile back except that Vince took that moment to take the head of his swollen member into his mouth. He moaned again as Vince slid him slowly into his mouth and down his throat. One slender hand stayed on his thigh while the other began to stroke his testicles and Howard couldn't stop the high pitched sigh that escaped his lips. He could feel his face heating up but couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or the overwhelming arousal that was coursing through his veins. Vince's fingers were massaging behind his balls, pressing into his perineum until he couldn't breathe or think while Vince's mouth sucked his cock, producing the most obscene noises which only increased the sudden, staggering need to come coiling within Howard's belly. _

_"__Vince!" he gasped, letting go of the sheets with one hand to touch Vince's silky hair tentatively. "Vince you have to stop or we'll never get to the... to the... oh, please-"_

_He moaned as Vince released his length with insane slowness, sure that he was about to explode. Vince pressed his face against Howard's belly, still kissing and licking but now careful to avoid his aching and leaking cock. He made his way back up Howard's body, leaving insistent kisses on every inch of skin available until his face was so close to Howard's their noses were touching. _

_"__You sure about this, lover?"_

_Howard shivered at the lust he could hear so clearly in the smaller man's husky voice. He nodded. He was more than sure and he was so ready. Vince pressed a desperate kiss to his mouth and Howard tasted himself on his lips. He wanted to remember everything they were doing in detail but there were just to many competing stimulations. Vince slid down his body again and ran his hands down Howard's legs, parting them wider and settling himself between them on the bed. Howard felt the tickle of Vince's fringe against his ball sack and unconsciously spread his legs even wider, his thighs quivering in anticipation. When he felt Vince's tongue licking the delicate skin around his puckered hole he let out a shuddering breath, only then realising he'd been holding it and when he felt that tongue circle and dip and probe his mind simply flew away. He had known it would be good, had loved doing it to Vince, but he still hadn't quite been prepared for what it felt like to have Vince's tongue in his arse. _

_He moaned again and tried to stop his body twitching about as Vince began to circle his hole with a spit-slicked finger. Vince went slow, licking and sliding his finger in and out with such aching tenderness that Howard thought he would cry. He flung out his arm blindly and grabbed the bottle of lube he had left in easy reach on the bedside table. Vince noticed the action and took the bottle from his shaking fingers, drizzling it down across Howard's testicles and perineum, spreading it with the tips of his fingers to his hole and then pressing two fingers in carefully. _

_Vince was trying so hard to be careful but Howard just wanted him to go faster, harder. He wanted to tell him but couldn't find his voice so instead he raised his hips and then pushed them down, once, twice, three times, working the fingers in deeper until they hit his prostate. He gasped and heard Vince do the same. _

_"__Please-" he murmured, his head tossing from side to side. "Please-"_

_Vince responded by removing his fingers and shuffling into position, lifting Howard's legs until his knees were pressed nearly to his chest. He coated his cock with lube and Howard watched, unable to even blink as Vince pushed into him._

_Beautiful. It was the only word Howard could think of to describe it all. Vince's cheeks were flushed pink against his white skin and his lips were swollen and red. His pupils were huge, two pools of black laced with delicate blue and his hair hung about his face, framing it perfectly. And his cock... it filled Howard so completely, so perfectly that he realised he actually was crying now. This was what he'd been waiting for his entire life, he realised: this feeling of wholeness, of completeness, of Vinceness. He tried to think how else he could describe the feeling but then Vince began to move his hips, pushing against his prostate and stretching him, electrifying his every nerve ending as he thrust in and out and Howard's brain shut down and let his body take over. _

_Somehow Vince managed to hold him at the brink of orgasm for longer than he'd thought possible but when it finally happened Howard felt the wave of pleasure build and then break over him like never before. It was so intense that for a few moments afterwards he felt like he was drifting, afloat on a sea of feelings and impressions. He came back to himself as Vince, still buried deep inside him, pushed his legs down to the mattress, leaned in and kissed him almost hard enough to bruise. Howard felt Vince's orgasm rip through him and the foreign sensation of Vince's come spurting into his well stretched passage and a small, secondary wave of pleasure passed through him. _

_Vince was panting hard, his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, and he stayed, balanced above Howard on shaking arms, for several minutes before he slowly withdrew and flopped down on the bed next to Howard. When he still didn't say or do anything after a few more minutes Howard glanced over. Vince was still panting, staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes and a strange little smile on his face. _

_"__Thank you," Howard whispered, and Vince turned his head to look at him quizzically. "For..." Howard stuttered. "That was my first time being, you know... Thank you for making it so special. So amazing. I love you."_

_Vince gave a tiny nod and cleared his throat._

_"__I love you too, Howard. And... when we first did it, six months and one week ago, that was my first time being, you know... as well and so... thank you too."_

_Howard felt as though the bed had disappeared and he was falling through infinite space. Vince's first. He'd been Vince's first. He hadn't even known or considered it and Vince had trusted him so completely and... Howard felt like his heart was trying to crawl up out of his mouth and Vince was looking at him apprehensively. He bundled the smaller man into a tight hug until Vince squealed that Howard had rubbed jizz on him and they would be permanently fused together. Howard laughed and Vince wriggled away, skipping to the bathroom absurdly and returning with a wet flannel. He cleaned up Howard with the same delicate tenderness he had used when preparing him and when he was done he pressed one last, love-filled kiss to Howard's lips before covering them both in their new purple blankets._

_"__Nighty-night, Howard," he whispered._

_"__Sweet dreams, little man," Howard replied._

* * *

They'd fallen asleep, tangled up together, and Howard had actually been grinning as he drifted off. But now...

"Please, Vince?" he whispered into his lover's hair, his voice cracking. "Please tell me what's wrong?"


	12. Chapter 12

**A short chapter before the end begins. Enjoy.**

* * *

Vince felt like death. His head was throbbing, his eye was twitching all over the place and his throat still felt raw. Everything felt fuzzy, like he was trapped in a cotton wool nightmare and as he struggled to surface from sleep he heard a desperate sounding sob. Who was crying?

"Please, Vince? Please tell me what's wrong?"

"Howard?"

He tried to sit up but the bigger man just squeezed him tighter, breathing hard and fast.

"Oh, Vince, thank God."

"Howard, what's wrong, why're you crying?"

"Me?"

Howard finally let go of him and moved back enough so that he could roll onto his back and look at his lover. It was dark in their room ('Their Room' Vince thought, smiling sleepily), but there was enough light coming through the window from the street lights outside for him to see the outline of Howard's face. He looked concerned and frightened but his cheeks were dry.

"Were you crying?"

Howard shook his head, his concern deepening. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Vince's cheek and he suddenly became aware that his own cheeks were damp, as was his hair and the pillow beneath him. He tried to remember what was happening, what he'd been dreaming, but it just slipped away, back to dreamland, and all he had were the vague shapes of memories. They were dark shapes though.

"Was I crying?"

Howard nodded, propping himself up on his elbow and running his hand up and down Vince's chest and stomach. Vince felt some of his sleep fog fading as he got used to the rhythm of the movement and watched as Howard's breathing began to settle back into something less panicked as well. Eventually Vince saw him gear up to say something, wetting his lips and taking some deep breaths before he finally managed to start the sentence.

"I take it from the fact that you don't remember doing it that you were sleeping. When you were crying."

It wasn't phrased as a question but Vince nodded in answer anyway and Howard echoed the movement. He felt bad. He'd woken up crying plenty of times before and wasn't really surprised that it'd happened again since it was so close to the anniversary of his parents' deaths but he'd never been caught doing it by Howard before. He put his hand gently over Howard's, stopping its motion over his belly.

"I'm sorry I upset you," he said slowly, watching Howard carefully and catching the subtle lip wobble.

"I thought I'd upset you," Howard whispered in reply. "I thought I'd done something wrong."

"No," Vince said loudly, making them both jump. He grinned sheepishly and was relieved when Howard did the same.

"No," he said again, only quieter. "You haven't upset me, Howard. You have made me very, very happy. More happy than I ever reckoned I'd be. You've been amazing."

He leaned over and kissed the other man tenderly on the mouth to prove his point and felt Howard give a little shiver.

"Then why..."

"Why the tears?"

"Mmm."

Vince shrugged and looked up at the ceiling.

"Because I'm still messed up?" He gave a snort but continued when Howard stayed silent. "Because even though I now have a loving boyfriend and a reason to celebrate my birthday and all of that, I can't just switch my brain off and all the dark shit is still part of me whether I want it there or not? I wasn't crying on purpose. It just happens sometimes. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologise for crying," Howard murmured, his voice floating through the darkened room. "I cry whenever we're faced with a monster more intimidating than a hamster."

"Yeah, you do," Vince chuckled and Howard began to move his hand again, making lazy circles on Vince's stomach and taking Vince's hand with him.

"Shut it, you," he rumbled and suddenly Vince felt the warmth of arousal creeping up through him.

"We should probably go back to sleep," he said slowly, closing his eyes as Howard's hand began to make wider and wider circles, his long fingers brushing the dark hair of his groin.

"Probably," Howard agreed, leaning in to kiss Vince's neck in a way that made Vince shiver and tilt his head to allow him better access.

"You probably need some help getting back to sleep though, right?"

"Probably," Howard mumbled, as he nipped and sucked his way along Vince's neck and Vince couldn't contain the deep groan that issued forth from his throat. Howard's hand slid down to grasp his cock and Vince bucked into his grasp. This was going to be over way too quickly if they weren't careful.

"Howard, I'm-" he tried to slow things down but Howard used his free arm to roll Vince on top of him and as he did their cocks aligned and both men moaned wantonly.

Howard took them both in his large hand and Vince couldn't focus his mind on anything but the overwhelming desire to come. His hips canted erratically and his arms shook as he tried to keep from pressing his full weight on to Howard. He felt them move together in Howard's strong hand, slick with their combined precome, and the feel of Howard's foreskin against his made him gasp and whine and suddenly it was too much.

"Howard-"

"Vince?"

"I-"

With a sudden shout he ejaculated into Howard's palm, struggling to breathe as Howard continued to pump their cocks for another few seconds before his own orgasm rushed through him. Vince felt Howard's come splash over his cock, hot and slick, and tried to control his breathing, then gave up and kissed Howard instead. He ran his tongue across Howard's lips and then his into his mouth, stroking the other man's tongue, eliciting a weak moan in response. Vince let his arms give way and collapsed on top of Howard with a sigh. Howard let out a little 'oof' and Vince bit his lip but didn't move.

"Sorry," he whispered and felt Howard shake his head.

"Don't be sorry."

The silence stretched out between them until Vince felt Howard's arms wrap themselves firmly around him.

"Happy birthday, Vince."

Oh, Vince realised, so it was. And Howard had just given him the best present he'd ever received: a reason to actually be happy on his birthday. He was vaguely aware that they were both rather sticky but lying on Howard was too comfortable and he was too tired. He considered moving but then heard the soft rumble of Howard's snores and let his eyes close. He'd worry about it in the morning. Right now he had a date with a really good dream.

"I love you, Howard..."


	13. Chapter 13

**This is the end, the final chapter! A huge thank you to Castie67 whose comments kept me wanting to write this story, and to the others who reviewed too. At this point I should point out that I don't own the Boosh or Gary Numan or his family. Or cake. I'm just writing and making no money from it.**

**Thanks again.**

* * *

Vince closed his eyes and smiled.

He'd had a fantasy, when he was younger, about having a normal family dinner with salads and fancy desert. Nobody got drunk, nobody got violent and nobody told him that eating as much as he wanted was greedy or would make him fat. He used to close his eyes and imagine it as he lay on his bed whilst his stomach growled because sometimes turning up to dinner was too frightening in the foster home. He could put up with being kicked under the table but hated having the food picked from his plate or held out of his reach and hated the way the other boys spoke. He hated that one particular boy who thought it was funny to stab him in the thigh with his fork, that was the worst, and so sometimes it was easier to simply hide in his bedroom.

But this, this was something else. He looked around the table and grinned. Gemma had put on a delicious meal and was now busy wiping the aftermath of it off the two youngest Numans, Persia and Echo. The oldest of the Numan children, Raven, was busy chattering at Howard about her first few weeks of 'big girl school'. Gary was in the kitchen uncorking another bottle of wine and there was soft music playing in the background. It all felt very... nice.

He looked at the almost empty salad bowl. He'd been determined to bring something but he'd had to look up what actually went in to a salad in a lifestyle magazine. It'd been fun and he and Howard had come up with a new crimp as they made it. Gemma had been proud of him and Gary had chuckled every time is was mentioned. He reckoned he could get used to domesticity. And then the light went out. And he gave a little shriek.

Raven giggled and Gary entered the dining room with a cake covered in candles. Vince blushed his way through the impressively in-tune birthday song and blew out the candles and then there was cake and more wine and eventually it was time to go home. Vince had survived his first birthday tea and realised that the whole day had been genius, even the bit where he and Howard had woken up at midday fused together with dried come because Howard had decided to carry Vince to the bathroom for a shared shower which Vince had declared the best shower of his life. And now he got huge cuddles from the three kids and proper, grown-up hugs from Gary and Gemma and presents and everything and then, as the moon came up and the sky turned an inky indigo he found himself walking down the street towards their flat with his hand held firmly and lovingly in Howard's.

"So," Howard said slowly as they came to a stop in front of their door. "Are you happy?"

"Um..."

Once upon a time Vince would have replied without thinking. Was he happy? Of course he was happy. He was Vince Noir, the Sunshine Kid, he was always happy. Generally it was true but he knew that Howard was asking a deeper question than whether he was just feeling cheerful at that moment.

"Yeah. I think I am actually. You?"

Howard gave him a lopsided smile and shook the curls away from his face. Vince felt his heart flutter in the way it had ever since he'd first seen the tall gangly boy whose locker was next to his. He still had a crush on Howard. Now he loved him, would do anything for him and he was finally getting to know Howard the way he'd wanted to all those years ago. It felt silly to still have a crush on him but it was there and Vince liked the little thrill he felt when Howard touched him or made eye contact or laughed at one of his jokes or smiled the way he was smiling now.

"Yep. Happy as a bean."

Vince giggled and began to twirl his hair coyly.

"Are beans known for their happiness, then?"

Howard grinned wide and unlocked the door, gesturing grandly for Vince to enter and he did.

"Of course they are," he replied as he shut the door. "They're famous for it, you must know that. They're the jolliest of all the legume family, well known fact."

Vince grinned again and started to climb the stairs, Howard close behind.

"Hey, Howard?" he asked in his most sultry voice.

"Yes, Vince?"

"Love you, Howard."

Even though he couldn't see him Vince reckoned he could feel Howard's smile. It was like electricity in the air and made him feel flushed in a very pleasant way.

"I love you too, Vince."

Vince bit his lip and his smile stretched wide as he continued up the stairs.

Somehow, when he'd pictured it (and he had pictured it, so many times) he hadn't imagined being in a relationship would be like this. When he'd imagined it, it had never been as good as this. There was romance but with the added bonus of no cream poetry, plenty of declarations of love, and the sex - making love as Howard insisted and Vince willingly agreed - was incredible. He could face anything now, any anniversary or nightmare, because he had Howard and Howard meant safety and home and love and happiness. He didn't just have a best friend, or a fuck buddy, or a casual boyfriend. Vince had so much more, and he intended to make it work. And that was something worth celebrating.


End file.
